


Gee's Journal

by edy, Nagem



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Codependency, Diary/Journal, Domestic Violence, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Multi, Sibling Incest, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide, Therapy, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 151
Words: 26,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagem/pseuds/Nagem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Way doesn't want to keep a journal. He doesn't have anything interesting going on right now. Well, he does find this guy sorta cute. His name's Frank Iero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday, Sept. 21, 2009

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted in journal entries on deviantART. the format stuck.

Monday, Sept. 21, 2009  
**Mood:** Miserable  
**Listening to:** My pumpkin snoring

I can't believe Mama. She never cared once to even send me someplace to get me help, and now, today of all days—a Monday to be more exact, _ugh, Mondays are just fucking dreadful_ —she finally gets the nerve to send me to one of those psycho doctors. Well, a therapist.

I don't like therapists. If you split the word into two parts, it totally spells _the rapist_ , and that's just fucking _creepy as fuck_.

Anyway, my doctor, Dr. Miller, told me that I "had trouble opening up about my feelings", and I just stared at her, because she's totally lying, because, well, I would know if I "had trouble opening up about my feelings". And I don't, 'cause I open up about my feelings all the time.

It's just that nobody's around to listen to me.

I'm pathetic.

I had to stay in that Goddamn place for an hour. Maybe more. I don't know. I don't care. She just spat shit out to me, and then when she _finally_ noticed I wasn't even paying a bit of attention, she threw this fucking composition book at me and told me to "write down my thoughts and problems" in it. I tried to tell her that I didn't have any thoughts or problems, and she just got even angrier at me. I mean, I swear, smoke was blowing out of her ears and nose, like a fucking dragon.

But of course, dragons aren't real. So, that must mean she isn't real. And if she isn't real, then this notebook I'm supposed to "write down my thoughts and problems" in isn't real. So, that means I can't "write down my thoughts and problems".

Fuck her. I'm not even going to write in here anymore. I'm just doing it for a day— _just one simple day_.

And then, I'm gonna stop, 'cause I don't want the dragon to read my stuff. She said she wasn't going to, but I know she will, because why else would she want me to bring it to her to our next session in a couple days?

She's weird. I'm weird. Everybody's weird.

Except, well, the guy who's sleeping on my bedroom floor, in the corner.

Yeah.

He's not weird.

He's perfect.


	2. Tuesday, Sept. 22, 2009

Tuesday, Sept. 22, 2009  
**Mood:** Content  


Okay, okay. I kinda lied. I know I said that I wouldn't write in here anymore, but it's just, well… it's kind of  _pleasant_ to write down what I think. It feels like someone cares, and I just… I'm happy.

Well, happy is an overstatement.

I'm not, like… happy enough to go out and, like, buy a dog. Is that what happy people do? I'm not sure…

My version of happy is… I can smile and not make it seem plastic, fake. Actually, I've been smiling a lot, and those smiles aren't forced. They're real, because, y'know, I'm _happy_. That's odd for someone like me, because everybody expects someone who's a complete freak to always be miserable and have no friends, no one to talk to.

My journal is who I can talk to. Yeah. That sounds kinda pathetic, though.

What to write about now… Oh! I'm trying to scrape together some money to buy a really nice acoustic guitar for the boy that always sits in the corner of my bedroom. I know he plays guitar, because, yeah, I listen to him whenever we used to talk during our little sessions at the record store, where I work at… and I know he already has a guitar, but it's an electric one, and he can't play that in my house, because Mama will hear, and because it's at his house, and I can't go back to his house, 'cause, well, I fucking _kidnapped_ him, and I don't think his mom will look too kindly on seeing her son's captor. So, I'm just going to buy him an acoustic.

Haha, I bet he doesn't even know I'm writing about him, plotting out what I'm going to get him.

Shit, he's staring at me.

Okay, I'm stupid. I just waved at him, and then just looked back down at this fucking book.

 _I'm a fucking idiot_!

I totally did not just bang my head against my book. Yeah. I don't do that kinda stuff.

Onto the topic of him again, he seems really bored just sitting over there. I wonder what he does all day. I don't let him have any freedom… I bet he's looked through all my possessions. Well, good. I'm glad. Now, he knows if we ever get intimate, I have lubricant in the bottom drawer of my dresser.

I'm blushing. I'm a fucking idiot. Shit.

I have a headache now, because I… well, I totally didn't just bang my head against the notebook again. I don't do that kinda stuff, man.

What do you think I am?

Crazy?


	3. Wednesday, Sept. 23, 2009

Wednesday, Sept. 23, 2009  
**Mood:** Worried  
**Watching:** _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_  
**Drinking:** Coke Zero

I hate myself for going back to this journal. It just… It just feels so _right_ to write down everything. I think I'm becoming a nicer person or something. I'm not sure. I'm just… scared.

I blame Frank.

He said it'll help me, but, well, my therapist did, too, but I don't care about her.

I only care about him.

And he was right. It does help me.


	4. Thursday, Sept. 24, 2009

Thursday, Sept. 24, 2009  
**Mood:** Hopeful

Mondays and Thursdays—the days where I have to go and see my therapist, otherwise known as "the dragon".

This visit wasn't as bad as it was on Monday, I'll admit that. She told me to bring my journal to our next session last time, and she didn't even read it! She just had me show her that I had written in it, like, she just took a quick glance at the papers. I'm happy about that. I don't think I'd enjoy it if people read the stuff I put in here.

I wish I had a cat. They're fluffy and soft, like my hair.

Yeah, I just took a shower, like the first one ever since a few weeks. Okay, maybe not _weeks_. More like a month or something. I'm nasty. It's just because of my hair dye. It runs out in a couple washes, and I don't want to keep dying it over and over again. That'll damage my hair, wouldn't it? Besides, a little dirt is good for hair.

I smell like coconuts. I wonder if Frank'll point it out. I hope. I like getting compliments from him.

Oh, well.

I feel like cuddling under the covers all night, not even moving once. I think I'll do that. I wonder if Frank'll join me. I hope. I like being close to him.


	5. Friday, Sept. 25, 2009

Friday, Sept. 25, 2009  
**Mood:** In pain

I just… I don't understand why Mama would sit me down right when I'm about to drive to school and… talk to me about, well, _me_. I mean, sure, yeah, she's my mother, and she's supposed to know some of that stuff, but… I just don't understand.

"Why don't you want me to go down into your room?"  
_Well, probably because it's_ my _room_.  
"Why do you always keep the door locked?"  
_I don't want you opening the door and letting the scent of candles going down there. It gives me a headache sometimes_.  
"Candles give you a headache? I would imagine the smell of dirty clothes and vomit would give you a headache."  
_Wow, thanks for lowering my self-esteem even lower. I love you, too_.  
"Why do you think you have such a low self-esteem? What's wrong, Gee? We used to be so close."  
_No, we fucking weren't. I wasn't close to anyone, except Mikey, and_ you took him away from me.

And that's when I flipped her off and swaggered out of that house like the badass motherfucker I fucking am.

Yeah, I'm a badass, because when I got home, I just went down to my room, cracked the door just a little bit, so she wouldn't get angry, told my pumpkin to stay away from that one side of my room that can be seen with the door open, and then went on to crawl into my bed and be pathetic.

I felt really bad, and I tried to get my mind off the emotional roller coaster I was on by reading the last _Harry Potter_ book, 'cause it's fucking _Harry Potter_ , and that shit just cheers everyone up, but then I ended up breaking down and yelling and kicking blankets off my bed and papers off my desk when I read the part when Hedwig died.

When Mama got home and peeked into my room, noticing everything was a complete wreck, she called me into her bedroom and tried to pressure me into telling her what was wrong.

"Did something happen at school? Did someone call you a name? Did someone make fun of you?"  
_No, yes, and yes, but that's not why I'm upset_.  
"What happened, dear?"  
_You mean at school_? _You actually care_? _Wow_.  
"Gerard, don't talk to me like that."  
_Well, you don't_! _You hardly even know what's even going on in my life_! _You don't even know how I feel_!  
"It's because you never open up and let someone know, Gerard! Just, sit back down and talk to me. Help me understand."  
_No_! _Even if I told you, you still wouldn't get it_! _Only two people understand me, and you took one of them away from me_! _And guess what_! _You're not the other person either_!  
"Then, who is Gerard?"  
_Frank, Mama. Frank understands me._

She just stared at me all wide-eyed and told me to get out of her room, stand out in the hallway while she went on to call my therapist. Well, I think it was her, since Mama came out of her room and told me we're going up to her office tomorrow at 9:00 a.m.

I didn't argue; I just went back to my room. I even made my footsteps louder than they usually are, and I made sure to slam the bedroom door as loud as possible.

Then, I lay down on my bed and cried like the baby I actually am. I curled in a ball on my only blanket I had managed to keep on the mattress during my tantrum and fucking balled, like a newborn.

Of course, I'm still balling right now as I write out this entry.

I want Frank to hold me, wipe away each of my tears with the soft pad of his thumb, softly tuck strands of my hair behind my ears, and gently kiss the quivering out of my lips.

Will I get any of those?

Probably not.


	6. Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009

Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009  
**Mood:** Sweet  
**Listening to:** My heart in my throat  
**Eating:** Frankenberry  
**Drinking:** Coke Zero

I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I keep writing about him.

My therapist thinks he's not real—someone I made up to mess with people's heads, someone that could be my friend, since somebody like me will never have anyone who'll consider them a friend.

But he's not made up.

He's real, and he's perfect, and, and.

And I love him.


	7. Sunday, Sept. 27, 2009

Sunday, Sept. 27, 2009  
**Mood:** Tired

I can't believe what I wrote yesterday. I can't… Oh, shit. I can't believe I actually said that, well… _wrote_. That's the first time I've ever said that… _wrote it_.

But yes, I love Frank. I don't exactly know why, but I think it's probably because I'm fucked up, and I like things I can't have. That's why I took him.

Over these past few weeks that I've spent with him, I can honestly say I admire him.

I admire his looks. I admire his personality. And lastly, I admire his will to live. He honestly believes he'll be able to get out of room, my house, my life… alive.

And I wish he could, but, but.


	8. Monday, Sept. 28, 2009

Monday, Sept. 28, 2009  
**Mood:** Shitty

Yippee. Another fucking therapy session.

It wasn't all that bad, I must admit. We just talked and shit, and she even brought out some board games, so we could play. I was just sitting there, like, _fuck yeah_ , _board games_! because I haven't played them since my brother left.

I don't really have anything else to write, which kinda sucks… Oh! I found a guitar for Frankie! It's an acoustic, like I said before… I'm planning to give it to him tomorrow or someday later this week…

I had a dream about him last night… but it's not unusual, 'cause I always dream about him, but this one was strange.

I let him go.

I would never do that.

I took him back to his house and dropped him off by the front door. We were holding hands, and he had squeezed my hand, tightly hugged me, and told me _thank you_ before going through the door and getting engulfed into a comforting hug by his mother.

I wonder. Should I let him go?

I don't want to.

But he had looked so happy seeing his mother, and… he doesn't look that happy staying here with me.

I don't know what to do.


	9. Tuesday, Sept. 29, 2009

Tuesday, Sept. 29, 2009  
**Mood:** Artistic  
**Watching:** _South Park_

Yeah, yeah, I know. It's technically _Wednesday_ , but I don't care. It's still Tuesday for me. I'm pulling an all-nighter, and until I fall asleep, this day will be Tuesday to me.

I'm feeling angsty, moody, depressed. I'm confused.

Mikey called me earlier today. He wanted to see how it was going, if I'm okay… how much he misses me.

_I miss him so much!_

I remember when we were younger, and we used to hide underneath my bed, and… and… _touch_ , like brothers shouldn't.

I'm crying now… I should stop writing about this. I need to think happy thoughts. _Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts_!

I'm not going to school tomorrow or work if I'm pulling an all-nighter. I won't. Mama won't be able to get me to. Nope.

I think I'm just going to watch some TV, draw a little, maybe make my relationship with Frank a bit more… intimate?

Nah, that won't happen.


	10. Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2009

Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2009  
**Mood:** Lazy  
**Watching:** _Weeds_

I don't want to go to school today. Not even work. And work is usually bearable.

Mama can try all she wants, but I will _not_ leave my room.

All I wanna do is be held by Frank. Just that. Nothing else.

Oh, and watch _Weeds_. Yeah.


	11. Thursday, Oct. 1, 2009

Thursday, Oct. 1, 2009  
**Mood:** Shameful

I got Frank a guitar. I'm planning to give it to him very, very soon, considering that I'm back from the therapist. I had to tell him to stay on my bed until I got home, since the guitar's under the bed, or else he'll be in big trouble. And he's seen me when I was angry before. And it wasn't pretty.

I'm really, really depressed.

No, it wasn't about the therapy session. That went just great. It's just that… Mikey called me when I was on my way to work.

I miss him… and he said he misses me, and he loves me, but why would he do this to me?! _Why_?!

I heard my phone ring in my pocket…

It was playing some Iron Maiden song…

I picked up, knowing it was Mikey…

Me: Hi, Mikey! How's it going?  
Mikey: Just great, Gerard. What about you?  
Me: Eh, could be better. Why'd you call? What happened?  
Mikey: I got a girlfriend, Gee!

I almost wrecked my Trans AM. I had to pull over for several minutes just to cry. Mikey asked me what was wrong, but I just told him I would call him back later. I was late for work.

I don't really know why I was crying. I mean, I should be really fucking glad my brother found someone, but… I just think it's because I love him more than I should, and… my heart hasn't fully become detached from him just yet.

I think it should be… I have Frank in my life—someone who isn't my brother.

I'm just… really disgusting.


	12. Friday, Oct. 2, 2009

Friday, Oct. 2, 2009  
**Mood:** Adoration  
**Watching:** _Let the Right One In_  
**Eating:** Popcorn  
**Drinking:** Coke Zero

I gave Frank his guitar yesterday, and he was still talking about it when I came home from work today. I'm happy he likes it.

Really and truly.

I'm just writing down a quick entry 'cause I wanna watch this movie. I don't think Frank's seen it yet, so I'm going to have to hide the guitar under my bed, so he'll watch it with me, cuddle with me.

It's a foreign film, but really, really fantastic. I hope he'll like it. I do.


	13. Saturday, Oct. 3, 2009

Saturday, Oct. 3, 2009  
**Mood:** Cheerful  
**Eating:** Frankenberry

I feel fully refreshed. I had a great night yesterday.

Frankie really enjoyed the movie, and after Oskar spelled out _kiss_ in Morse Code to Eli in the box, I turned to Frank and grabbed his hand, slowly pulling out his arm. I pulled up his t-shirt sleeve and slowly tapped out _kiss_ on his shoulder.

-.- .. ... ...

I slowly looked up at him, and our eyes met, and he just grabbed my face in his hands and roughly kissed me.

And then, we just started rolling around on the bed, listening to the credits roll and continuing to kiss.

It was… just… magical.

I really love him. I do.

Now, I'm going to have get ready to go to work. I don't want to leave Frank all alone, but I have to. Well, at least he has his guitar now.

Maybe he can write me a song, but I know that's highly unlikely. I'm not the type of boy someone would write songs about.


	14. Sunday, Oct. 4, 2009

Sunday, Oct. 4, 2009  
**Mood:** Amazed

I'm surprised Frank can learn a song that quickly on his guitar. I'm so, so proud of him.


	15. Monday, Oct. 5, 2009

Monday, Oct. 5, 2009  
**Mood:** Agony

Today, the therapist told me to draw a picture of Frank. She said she wanted to see who made me happy all the time. Without thinking, I did a quick sketch of him looking down at the ground, playing a guitar. I made sure to make him look exactly how he did yesterday. I thought I did a pretty good job until she told me to draw a picture of his face. I was wary at first, but I gave in and drew a fantastic image of him sleeping on my bed. She got mad at me, then, and told me to draw one where he had his eyes open, like if he was staring at me. I got frustrated with her, but did as she said. I shouldn't have, but I did. The product was a picture of his full face, and he was crying. She didn't ask me about that, though, but what she did say shocked me.

_That boy looks very familiar._

I threw up on her desk.


	16. Tuesday, Oct. 6, 2009

Tuesday, Oct. 6, 2009  
**Mood:** Emotional

Mama asked me how Frank was today.

I don't know what she's trying to play. I just looked at her and said that he was doing great, since his biological parents came and picked him up. They're now going to California. He's going to a special academy that can help him control his powers. Yeah, he has powers. He can… talk to the dead.

She blinked and asked me if he was one of the characters I created for my comic book. 

I nodded.

I think she'll be off my back about him for a while. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with talking to your characters, right?

Well, he's not really a character, but, y'know what I mean.


	17. Wednesday, Oct. 7, 2009

Wednesday, Oct. 7, 2009  
**Mood:** Excited

Frank's been playing his guitar all the time, and I'm really proud of him. 

I've also started to work on this comic book… Mama made me. I know she'll ask sooner or later how it was going, so I'm just drawing some random characters that pop up in my head. I think it's turning out pretty good so far, but I'm not sure…

Oh! Frank's going to play me a song now. I gotta go.


	18. Thursday, Oct. 8, 2009

Thursday, Oct. 8, 2009  
**Mood:** Nervous

Today, I met this guy at the therapist's. His name's Brendon, and he's going through the same thing I am. He says he has this boy named Ryan locked up in his room, too. I started to feel not-so-alone anymore, since I found someone else like me. 

But then, when the therapist called him back to do his session, his mother leaned over to me. She said, "I'm sorry about Brendon. He's schizophrenic. The medicine doesn't quite work for him, and he's been thinking that the ghost of his dead friend keeps following him around, because they never got to experience being in an intimate relationship together." She shook her head, then, and sighed. "His father tried sending him to a mental institution, and then a straight camp, but"—she rolled her eyes—"he's forever doomed."

I began to question my sanity after that.


	19. Friday, Oct. 9, 2009

Friday, Oct. 9, 2009  
**Mood:** Guilty  
**Listening to:** My pumpkin crying

I hit Frank today.

I really didn't mean to. I really didn't, but that fucking Brendon kid apparently goes to my school, and the reason I never seen him around before is that his parents just now sent him after God-knows-how-long. His therapist thought it was wise to send him to school, so they'll know if Ryan is actually following him around there, too.

Guess what! He fucking does. 

I don't know if his parents are just really _stupid_ or something, because I can see Ryan, too. I yelled at them for holding hands in the lunchroom.

Yeah, Brendon followed me around today, because "I'm his only friend here, besides you, Ryan, I love you, Ryan". Yeah, I know. Made me sick.

So, I think Brendon's parents are just fucking stupid, or I could be schizophrenic like Brendon. I hope I'm not.

And that's what brought me to punch Frank. 

After school, I ran down to my room and punched him right in the jaw. I heard him cry and his jaw pop out of place, so I'm guessing he's real. Mama even heard a loud yelping sound, so that just further proves Frank's real, and I'm not schizophrenic.

He's still crying. I apologized for hitting him, but I guess words can't make the blood and pain go away.

I'll hold him, kiss him, cry with him. 

_Everything's going to be okay, Frankie…  
I promise, sugar…_


	20. Saturday, Oct. 10, 2009

Saturday, Oct. 10, 2009  
**Mood:** Unhappy  
**Watching:** _Let the Right One In_

I called off work today. I wanted to stay home with Frank to try and make it up to him somehow.

He's been avoiding me, and I haven't felt this miserable in months. I don't want him mad at me, ignoring me. 

Frank! I'm sorry!

I'm going to hold him while we watch _Let the Right One In_ again. I'll even do what we did before.

-.- .. ... ...

I just… don't want him mad at me. I really don't. 

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- --..-- / ..-. .-. .- -. -.- --..-- / ... --- / ..-. ..- -.-. -.- .. -. --. / -- ..- -.-. .... .-.-.- 

.- -. -.. --..-- / .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- .-.-.-


	21. Sunday, Oct. 11, 2009

Sunday, Oct. 11, 2009  
**Mood:** Euphoric

I don't know what exactly happened, but… Frank and I… We… slept together.

It was after the movie, and I turned to Frank, kissed him, and he pulled away from me, obviously still scared. I was hurt, so I told him I would help him feel safer. I helped him get dressed in the clothes I took him in, and then… it just… sorta happened.

We were just kissing, and I was really surprised Frank was kissing me back, and then… clothes started getting pulled off, we started to softly whimper and moan, and… the smell of strawberries was everywhere. 

We… It was amazing, and I think I helped him a lot. He's not that reserved from me anymore, so I'm glad about that. 

It… felt nice to finally show him how I feel about him. And… I can't believe I'm not a virgin anymore. I thought nobody would want to fuck me, but I guess I was wrong. 

I want to replay that night over and over and over again.

"I love you, Frank."  
"I love you, too, Gerard."

That was the first time he ever said it back.


	22. Thursday, Oct. 15, 2009

Thursday, Oct. 15, 2009  
**Mood:** Grumpy  
**Listening to:** Brendon bitching  
**Drinking:** Water AKA tasteless air

Frank's gone.

I'll, I'll try to recount everything that's happened.

 _Monday_ —Dr. Miller took my journal, claimed she had to read it for "personal reasons". I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want her reading about what Frank and I had done. But then, I remembered Frank's just one of my comic book characters, so I shouldn't worry about anything.

 _Tuesday_ —I pushed Frank down the stairs, and he hurt his wrist really bad. He wanted some hot chocolate, so we quietly went upstairs. I fixed him some, like the good boyfriend I am. We were planning to go back to my room, but he turned into the living room, going to sit down on the couch. I didn't think about my next actions. I just grabbed his arm, yanked him away with wide eyes. This caused him to drop the mug to the ground, and it made a really loud sound when it broke. I had also spilled it on him, so he was yelling, because of the burns. I panicked, and I pushed him over to my bedroom doorway. I shoved him down the stairs, because I heard Mama coming. I couldn't have her finding Frank, so I just bent down to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic. I told her I dropped it, and then I went on to yell at her to leave me alone. After cleaning, I went downstairs to check on Frank. He was extremely pissed off at me, and I threw a tantrum, resulting with me going to the bathroom and vomiting several times.

 _Wednesday_ —I went to school, like a normal little boy, and when I came home, Frank was gone. At first I thought he was hiding, so I went to look under all my furniture and even in the bathroom. Once my search came up negative, I went back upstairs only to find my mother sitting on the couch. I didn't know why she was there since she gets off work later than I do, so naturally, I asked. She told me to sit down, and I did. She went on to tell me she saw the missing boy who's been gone for a few months in our house, in the kitchen, fixing himself some hot chocolate. She, then, said that she called the police, and they came and took him away, sent him back to his mother's. Mama and the police didn't understand why he was putting up a fight, practically screaming and kicking at the cops to put him down, to let him go back down to my room and sit on my bed. This was when I screeched "it's because he loves me, you fucking bitch!" before violently slapping her across the face and running down to my room.

And today, I went to the therapist. Mama was in the room with me. She and Dr. Miller talked about my "condition", and how I should be put somewhere for a while, at least until I realize what I did was wrong, but I don't see how, though. Love's not wrong, is it? I tried telling Mama that, but she just ushered me away, told me to wait outside in the lobby. I loudly groaned, kicked over a chair, and walked out.

With my foot painfully throbbing, I started into the waiting room, and guess who the first person I see is!

Fucking Brendon.

I thought back to when I first met him, and then I realized that everything just started crumbling whenever he told me he had Ryan following him around. He said he took him, just like what I did, but his parents thought he was schizophrenic, because they never saw the guy.

Well, now, I'm depressed and a little bit pissed at him. So, I only did the reasonable thing.

I started toward him, grabbed his arm, and yanked him into Dr. Miller's office. I threw him on the ground, kicked at him until he couldn't get up anymore. Blood was pouring out of his nose. The therapist and Mama tried to stop me, but I screamed and threw myself against the wall.

"He took someone, too! He kidnapped Ryan! He's not schizophrenic! He took him! He took him! Take Ryan away from him! It's not fair!"

Everything just seemed to happen in fast-forward mode. I didn't remember anything, except that I'm supposed to stay in this treatment home for a few days, maybe even weeks, I'm not sure. I think this place is for delusional teens who are troubled, and there's no possible way of getting them any kind of help.

I'm doubled on therapy sessions with this fucking dude named Biersack or something. Sounds stupid.

They put me on this kind of antidepressant. I'm not entirely sure why. I'm fine. I'm not sad. Well, yeah, I am, but I'm madder than anything. They won't let me see Frank or even talk to him. I think that's bullshit. Shouldn't patients get to see their boyfriends? Won't that help the process of "getting better" get better?

Everybody's stupid here, I swear.

Oh, and Brendon's my roommate. They said I needed to get along with him more since he, most likely, will be my only friend here, and he's also kidnapped someone as well, so they wanted me to feel "at home". We had "common interests".

Fuck, Brendon wants me to put together a puzzle with him. It's the least I could do. I mean, I did beat him and cause him to be in here with me.

If I can't have Frank, Brendon shouldn't be allowed to have Ryan.

Sounds pretty fair to me.


	23. Friday, Oct. 16, 2009

Friday, Oct. 16, 2009  
**Mood:** Annoyed  
**Listening to:** Brendon acting like a baby  
**Watching:** _Aladdin_

The people here think it's a treat to let us all watch a movie on Friday nights. They forced me to sit through this one since it's only my second day here. They told me that I could stop coming to them in a few weeks. Fuck them. I wanna leave now!

We're watching some stupid Disney movie, and no, it's not the good ones, like… _The Lion King_ or _101 Dalmatians_. No, no, it had to be fucking _Aladdin_.

At least I'm allowed to write in my journal. 

Shit, Brendon just sat in the same chair as me. He curled up next to me and held on, burying his head in my neck. He murmured something stupid under his breath before crying out "Ryan", and then breaking down in sobs.

I'll have to hug him or something. 

Fuck.


	24. Saturday, Oct. 17, 2009

Saturday, Oct. 17, 2009  
**Mood:** Grouchy

I hate this fucking place with all my heart. 

I've never hated something so much in my life until now. 

I mean, seriously. The doctors here never give you any freedom, and they expect you to show up at group therapy on time every single day. That's just stupid. I don't want to go there. I have nothing to say.

God, I'm so annoyed right now. I just… hate it here with a burning passion. I guess I'll just play a board game with Brendon. He's been bugging me about it ever since we woke up. 

Oh, yeah, when I woke up around eight, Brendon was in my bed. 

I don't know why, but I feel like I shouldn't question it, so I won't.


	25. Monday, Oct. 19, 2009

Monday, Oct. 19, 2009  
**Mood:** Ranting

I hate this place. They believe in, like, dressing us up in nice clean clothes, and then taking us to church. Some of the nurses told us that letting God into our life would help us a lot onto the road of recovery. I couldn't believe the bullshit they were saying.

I mean, I'm Catholic, yeah, but… I don't really think God can really do anything. He made us like this in the first place, so would He really want us to get fixed? He programmed us to turn out like this for a reason, but I don't know the reason.

I wanted to get a quick entry down before I head off to go to a therapy session with good ol' Biersack. Oh, and Brendon's gonna be there. Biersack said that getting us together would possibly help us getting fixed, because we both have the same "illness".

God, I hate it here.


	26. Tuesday, Oct. 20, 2009

Tuesday, Oct. 20, 2009  
**Mood:** Happy

I know this is really strange and out of character for me to say, but I… I'm so happy right now.

Apparently, if you're good over a course of a couple days, they allow people to contact you, call the institution, and actually talk to you! 

At first, when the lady came into the cafeteria, I thought she was going to hand the phone to Brendon, because he was attached to my arm, but she handed it to me and said, "It's someone by the name of 'Mikey'."

I totally flipped my shit, and I grabbed the phone with both hands and practically screamed into it. 

Turns out, it wasn't Mikey who called.

It was Frank.

It's been well over several minutes since I got off the phone with him, and I just feel fantastic! I'm great! I might even put together a puzzle with Brendon later and actually be into it. 

I can't wait for tomorrow. He said he'd call again, and I'm so excited. I don't think I can go to sleep tonight. 

Is that a problem? I don't care. I'm happy.


	27. Wednesday, Oct. 21, 2009

Wednesday, Oct. 21, 2009  
**Mood:** Anxious  
**Listening to:** Myself humming

It sucks they don't let you watch whatever you want here. I wanted to watch _Weeds_ , but they say it's "not appropriate".

I'm waiting for Frank to call as I write this. Yesterday, he called around seven in the evening. Right now… it's nearing nine o'clock…


	28. Thursday, Oct. 22, 2009

Thursday, Oct. 22, 2009  
**Mood:** Excited  
**Eating:** Cardboard and icky shit

Frank was taking a shower. That's why he called late yesterday. I felt so relieved when I heard his voice. 

I can't wait 'til he calls today, too. 

But for now, they're making all of us eat what they call dinner. It looks like noodles and pudding, but it's really cardboard and icky shit.

They taste terrible. I'm surprised nobody died from explosive diarrhea yet. Anyway, all the good food is served late at night, when nobody would even think to be awake. I'm awake, though, and the cafeteria guy lets me choose whatever I want, but it's mostly just Kool-Aid and some cereal. His name's Tom. He's my favorite worker here so far. He treats me like a person. 

Oh! The lady at the desk just called for me! That means Frank! 

Look at me, I'm squealing like a little girl. 

I'm stupid.


	29. Friday, Oct. 23, 2009

Friday, Oct. 23, 2009  
**Mood:** Delighted

They're letting me see Frank tomorrow! They're letting me see Frank tomorrow!

I just might explode! 

I'm so ecstatic! They're actually letting me out of the institution, letting me go to Frank's house, and letting me take him out on a date.

Fuck! I'm so happy! I can't wait 'til tomorrow, like seriously. I'm gonna have to clean up, wear something nice, plan out a date… Maybe go to see a movie… Dinner and a movie… I don't know. I'm just… happy. 

I hope everything turns out all right.


	30. Saturday, Oct. 24, 2009

Saturday, Oct. 24, 2009  
**Mood:** Peaceful

It's very, very, _very_ late. I just got home, well not home, I just got back to the institution, and Frank and I had a really great time. I know we did. He really enjoyed himself. 

Okay, first, I didn't have time to take a shower, so I tried to bathe myself with a bunch of Axe or whatever Brendon let me use. It smelled good. Anyway, I hadn't exactly looked at myself in a mirror in a long time, and well, my hair is completely brunet now. Not an inch of black anywhere! Oh, and it's gotten longer, like, it's down to my shoulders now, and it's all wavy, and it curls at the ends. I dressed in a white collared shirt and black skinny jeans, but Frank looked better.

He was wearing all black, except for his tie, which was red. He looked gorgeous. He also had a cast on his arm, so I'm guessing he actually did break his wrist from where I pushed him down the stairs.

We ate at this restaurant, and then went to see a movie. I couldn't tell you the details of it. I wasn't really paying attention to the screen, if you know what I mean.

When the movie was over, I drove Frank back to his house. We kissed some more, and then he started to pull me into his house, and I was guessing he was going to show me his bed or something, but then his mom showed up and made me leave.

But I came back a few hours later.

And we fucked.

Hard.

Nah, I mean, I think it was sweeter than anything. Like, we knew we weren't going to see each other as often, because this could've been a one-time thing, so we wanted to make it special… and quiet. 

Now, I think I'm going to take a shower. I feel like a skank, and Brendon keeps asking me what we did.

Like I'm going to tell him.


	31. Monday, Oct. 26, 2009

Monday, Oct. 26, 2009  
**Mood:** Not impressed

I hate Church—seriously. They made us all confess our sins yesterday, and they were mad at me for saying "Forgive me, Father, but I had awesome anal sex with my boyfriend on Saturday."

I can't talk to Frank for a few days now. 

I don't know why. I just did what they told me to do.


	32. Tuesday, Oct. 27, 2009

Tuesday, Oct. 27, 2009  
**Mood:** I have to piss  
**Listening to:** Lunatics talking about the weather  
**Drinking:** Kool-Aid

Today was boring.

I don't really have anything else to write down, which is a bit sad.

I'll just go hang out with Brendon or something. I don't know.


	33. Wednesday, Oct. 28, 2009

Wednesday, Oct. 28, 2009  
**Mood:** Love dazed  
**Listening to:** Brendon

You won't believe what happened last night! Okay, well, somehow, I managed to talk to Frank on the phone for a little bit, and then I got to see him! 

Let me explain. I had to have someone come with me, so I wouldn't escape or anything. It's stupid. Tom, the guy that gives me all the Kool-Aid and Frankenberry, drove me to a café, and Frank and I talked there for a while, and then he drove us back to Frank's house, and we, well, _were intimate_. 

Last night was really special to me, and I don't know what I'd do if I wouldn't be able to be that close to Frank again. I'll go crazy! Even crazier than I already am. And I'm already pretty crazy. That's why I'm in here, right?

Oh, well, I have to go off and have a session with Biersack now. Fuck. Brendon's coming with me. Double fuck.

He keeps going on and on about how he got to see Ryan a few days ago. He swears they didn't fuck, but what else could he mean when he says they "intimately and physically slept together"? I don't know. He's crazy. I'm crazy. 

I'm just worrying that, later on, when I get outta here, if Frank and I will still be in a relationship. I mean, we _have to be_. Whenever I think of him with someone else, I get sick, and I have to stay near a bathroom for the rest of the day. It gets pretty bad.

But I know he won't leave me. We're in love, and nothing can tear us apart.


	34. Thursday, Oct. 29, 2009

Thursday, Oct. 29, 2009  
**Mood:** Content  
**Listening to:** Brendon  
**Watching:** Brendon pacing the room and jumping up and down on his bed 

Mikey called a few minutes ago for the first time in forever. 

He wanted to let me know Daddy's really sick, but he's staying strong, and they think he's going to pull through, which I'm really glad about, even if Daddy never did like me that much.

Mikey told me he missed me, and he's been meaning to come down here and visit, but with Daddy being ill, he has to watch him. 

The sad part's that he asked me how Mama's been doing, but I really have no idea. I haven't seen or heard from her ever since I got locked up in here. I miss her. 

I think it's also sad that Mikey didn't exactly know that I got sent here. He told me Mama told him a few days ago when he called and wanted to know how I was doing.

It sucks. I hate it here, but at least I can drink all the Kool-Aid I want, and I have someone that always keeps me company, even if he is rather annoying.


	35. Friday, Oct. 30, 2009

Friday, Oct. 30, 2009  
**Mood:** Isolated

Today, Biersack and I talked about Mikey.

I talked about him for forty minutes without pause nor thought, and after I was done, Biersack said, "I think you have a very close relationship with your brother, but when I say the word 'close', I mean… too close."

I stared at him with a furrowed brow, and he sighed. "Do you love him?"

"Of course I do! He's my brother!" I smiled, and he frowned.

"But are you in love with him?"

I paused.

"Like… do you love him… in a sexual way?"

I don't get it. Why do people always think Mikey and I did shit in the past? I mean, we totally did, but that doesn't mean people have to bring it up every Goddamn time I talk about him.

Anyway, I spat at Biersack's head and clawed at his face, and now, I've been sent to stay in my room all weekend. 

I guess the only good thing about this is that I don't get to see Brendon.

I'm scared to admit this, but I'm starting to miss him. It was nice having some company.


	36. Saturday, Oct. 31, 2009

Saturday, Oct. 31, 2009  
**Mood:** Lonely  
**Listening to:** My beautiful voice (I'm so cocky)

I tried to write a song while I was stuck in my room. I even tried to sing it, but it kinda hurt, like… my mouth does, my teeth. I don't know what's happening! Fuck.

I was going to scream and call it "Bring More Knives", but I don't know what to do now. Fuck.

Dear Lord, I don't know what’s wrong with me.

I've gone crazy. 

I hope they let me go to church tomorrow. Maybe if I confess or some stupid shit, they'll let me walk around here and not be locked up. 

I'm going to try and sing again.

" _Never trust,_ " _you said_.  
_Who put the words in your head_?  
_Oh, how wrong we were to think_  
_that immortality meant never dying_ …


	37. Monday, Nov. 2, 2009

Monday, Nov. 2, 2009  
**Mood:** Hungry  
**Listening to:** Brendon—who else?

This is _really_ weird, but I actually enjoyed church yesterday. And _yes_ , they let me go. I told them I was going to confess, and I did, just to make them happy.

Then, after, they let us to go to McDonald's. It was awesome.

But while we were at the church… It was just weird. I was hanging with Brendon in this empty room, and he just turns to me and hugs me. He held me and murmured my name several times before pulling away and shutting the door, so we were completely locked together.

He went back up to me, placed his hands on my shoulders, and asked me if I could see Frank anywhere in here. I took a quick look around, and then shook my head, because I really didn't see him, and I felt a bit sad. Brendon could see Ryan, but then I remembered that Brendon was a bit odd, so I didn't think much of it.

The thing I did find out of character for the freak was that he held me again, whispered in my ear, "Ryan gave me permission", and then proceeded to kiss me open-mouthed on my bottom lip with _way_ too much fucking tongue. Seriously, he just planted it there and just started licking my lips.

And all I did was just stand there with wide eyes.

I really think Brendon needs help. He said Ryan visits him, but when I asked Tom, he said they don't allow visitors when you first get here. You have to wait until a few months pass by, and then they think about it. Tom also told me that he knows some of the patients who's been here for two or even more years who haven't had a single visitor, and that makes me really sad. 

Doesn't their family care about them?

Don't they have friends?

A girlfriend?

A boyfriend?

Children?

All this made me think back to Frank.

And it caused me to wrap my arms around Brendon and kiss him back.

My reasoning? 

_Frank gave me permission._


	38. Tuesday, Nov. 3, 2009

Tuesday, Nov. 3, 2009  
**Mood:** Emotional  
**Listening to:** Me crying

So many things happened today, and I'm still crying. I think I'm just emotional.

Well, first, I never even came out of my room until it turned night time. I laid on my bed all day. 

Guess what I was doing.

Give up? 

I was making out with Brendon.

I know, I know. I'm crazy.

It was pleasant, though, I have to admit. I woke up crying, because of this bad dream that I had. I dreamed that Frank cheated on me, and I know he would never do that, but it just scared me, y'know? So, I was crying, and Brendon came over, and I noticed he was crying, too, and he told me that he dreamed that Ryan was cheating on him, too.

And one thing led to another, and we spent that whole entire day just lying on my bed and kissing.

Then, probably around eight or nine, when we both finally noticed we were hungry, we came out and headed to the cafeteria, but a worker stopped me and said I had a phone call. I got all excited, because I thought it was Frank, so I ran over to the phone and held it close to my ear. I listened for a few moments, and at first, I thought the phone went dead or that lady pulled a trick on me, because I couldn't hear anything. 

But when I was about to hang up, I heard Frank's voice! I started to bounce on my heels, and when I was about to say his name, I heard him say, "You look beautiful." I looked down at my clothing, wondering how he could possibly see me, but I slowly began to realize something. 

He wasn't talking to me.

Soon after, I heard him and someone else roll around on his bed, moaning, panting, groaning, and him saying how he missed being with them.

Needless to say, I got pissed. 

I yelled into the phone, ripped it from the machine, and then went on to tear up the other phones by it. 

Nobody came until I started throwing around anything that I could grab onto, and that someone was Brendon.

He held me around my waist and tried to get me to calm down. He was shaking me, and I was thrashing around, screaming at the top of my lungs. I wouldn't listen to him. He was telling me that whatever I heard wasn't true. He sometimes heard things whenever Ryan called him, but he just ignores it. 

The only thing wrong with that is that Ryan hasn't called him, I don't think. Last time I talked to Tom, he said Ryan hasn't called.

I continued yelling and throwing things until some guys picked me up and carried me to the basement of the institution. They threw me into this padded room by myself and closed the door. 

They came back down after a few hours to give me my journal, and that's all what happened so far.

I don't understand.

Why would Frank do that to me?


	39. Wednesday, Nov. 4, 2009

Wednesday, Nov. 4, 2009  
**Mood:** Agony

I didn't want to be stuck in solitary confinement any longer, so I harmed myself.

I don't exactly know what I did, but I woke up in the little infirmary they have here. My head's bandaged up, and it hurts, so I must have hit my head on something. I don't really know what I could have hit it on, though. There's just a bunch of padding down there. 

I also had bandages around my hands, my fingertips mostly. I must have yanked out my hair or something. 

I'm not sad. I needed a hair cut anyway.

I had been in the infirmary for a couple hours now, and nobody visited me, not even Brendon. I, at least, thought his stupid ass would flutter on down here, but I guess not. 

I try not to be affected by this, but I can't help it.

I was starting to cry as the white doors opened, letting Tom, the cafeteria guy, enter. He walked over to my bed and told me Frank called, and he wanted to talk to me. I don't want to talk to him, and I showed my disgust by crawling under the covers and growling.

I heard Tom laugh from above me, and he crawled under the covers with me. When I raised my head, our faces were inches apart. I could smell his cologne—Axe?—and I began to cry more. Tom had a lip ring, and the covering above us reminded me of my bed. I felt safe under my bed. I felt safe right now, but Frank wasn't here to kiss me, so I cried. 

Tom wanted to know why I was crying, and he even wiped off the tears that stained my flushed cheeks. I couldn't tell him. He asked me what Frank did to me. I lost control. I clung to him and spilled out everything. 

Tom didn't say anything. He just hugged me, rubbing the back of my tender head. He told me Frank was a dick to do that to me, and I started to believe him, but it hurt. I still loved Frank. I'll never stop loving him.

I stayed under the covers, on top of Tom, tracing the letters on his name tag. I only got "TOM DELON" before I fell asleep and dreamed of me killing Frank and Brendon killing Ryan. We walked away from the crime scene hand-in-hand, and we eventually melted into a puddle of dark liquid that melted onto the concrete, spelling out "FREAKS!!" 

I don't know what the dream meant. I just want Frank and a cup of Kool-Aid.


	40. Thursday, Nov. 5, 2009

Thursday, Nov. 5, 2009  
**Mood:** Sick  
**Eating:** Soup

I'm still stuck in the infirmary, and Frank called me today. They told me it was Mikey. It wasn't.

I don't remember most of the conversation, but I do remember we were yelling a lot, and I cried.

I also remember what I said before I hung up. Well, I threw the phone against the wall and yelled, and Tom ran in and held me while I sobbed and convulsed and threw up in this shitty bucket they gave me.

Frank said that letting me hear them fuck was the only way he could tell me that he and his old girlfriend were back together.

My response? 

"No, it fucking wasn’t. You could've just told me, Frank! I would've handled things a lot differently. But no, you had to go off and fuck her! You have no fucking idea how attached I am to you, Frank, and you think going off and fucking that girl will just cut me out of your life that easily, then fine, believe that. But let me tell you, most kidnappers take their victims more times than once, so when I get outta here, I'll be sure to get you back to me once and for all, and I'll make sure you won't escape from me this time."

I hope he took it well. I know I did.


	41. Friday, Nov. 6, 2009

Friday, Nov. 6, 2009  
**Mood:** Affectionate

I'm out of the infirmary. Unfortunately, my head still hurts. I feel it throb every few minutes on the hour. They're giving me pain meds, but they're not helping a lot.

I think they've banned phone calls for me, because Frank hasn't called me at all. I wonder why. I don't think I really done anything, but, eh, I'm known to be a bit creepy. Brendon told me that. 

When I walked out of the infirmary, I ran right up to him and hugged him and wouldn't let go until he threatened to get a different room and leave me alone. I don't want that. I like the company. I think I said that before, but who's counting?

I hope I don't have to go to extra sessions with Biersack since I got put into solitary confinement. I don't really like him. I like Dr. Miller better. Brendon likes the dragon better, too. _The dragon_. I still remember that! I'm glad I didn't hurt my head hard enough to severely damage some brain cells or something.

Brendon wants me to come with him while he calls Ryan. I guess I'll come. It's better than staying in here by myself.

My head still hurts.

Aw, Brendon’s holding my hand.


	42. Monday, Nov. 9, 2009

Monday, Nov. 9, 2009  
**Mood:** Longing  
**Listening to:** "Bad Romance" playing over and over in my head 

Biersack took my journal. I know, right? Bullshit. 

Nothing exciting happened recently, which is a bit sad. 

Well, on Sunday, Brendon and I found a Lady Gaga CD lying around, and we played it on one of their big stereos, and "Bad Romance" started playing, and _everybody danced to it_.

It was pretty awesome, but then they made us sit in the bus while the rest of the patients got to hang at McDonald's. I found that totally unfair, because this was the first time they took us to the McDonald's that had a fucking play place in it, and we weren't even allowed to see it. 

Bullshit.

Anyway, Brendon and I had a super-hot make-out session on the bus, though, so I guess it balances out. I'm not sure.

He was pushing me against the window, and my head was hurting like a motherfucker, because he smashed it against the wall beforehand. He just moaned into my mouth, drooled on me a little bit, and then started stroking me through my church pants.

I kinda froze up, and he stopped and held me, told me he knew I wasn't detached from Frank yet, and he started pushing this shit on me that Ryan told him that it was okay to experiment with other boys, and I yelled at him and told him that I wanted to see Ryan, that he should visit, and Brendon stared at me before sitting down at the front of the bus.

I hate it here. I swear.

I miss Frank, too.


	43. Tuesday, Nov. 10, 2009

Tuesday, Nov. 10, 2009  
**Mood:** Distressed

Somehow—I'm not even sure how—Brendon got to have a visitor today. 

It was Ryan.

Everybody saw him, so I guess he was real. 

I know this was… probably the second time I saw him, but it still felt a bit weird to me. 

He was so nice, and _Brendon completely ignored me the whole time Ryan was here_.

Like, seriously, he grabbed Ryan the moment he walked in and locked themselves in the bedroom.

So, I'm writing this in the cafeteria right now. Well, not really the cafeteria, the area behind the cafeteria, like, where the cooks make the food. Tom let me back here. He saw how depressed I looked sitting outside my room, leaning against the door, holding my journal to my chest, trying not to cry.

He helped me up and took me to where I am now. He fixed me a bowl of cereal and let me drink coffee, but I'm not supposed to tell people that. He said it'll get him fired, and I don't want him to go. I'll miss him. 

I'm being held by him right now. He's rubbing my back. He told me to not think about Brendon, Ryan, or anybody that causes grief in my life. He told me to just focus on Frank, because he's the reason I'm in here and the reason that's going to help me get out of here alive.

Why hasn't he called?


	44. Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2009

Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2009  
**Mood:** Lonely

Today, I went to my session with Biersack. Alone.

Brendon was still preoccupied with Ryan even if he had left a few hours ago. He was jumping around in our room, in the hallways, and even in the fucking cafeteria. It hurt to look at. I know he's happy and all, but, _my God_ , calm—the—fuck—down.

Biersack and I sat around his office, and he wanted to know if Frank called me any. When I said no, he looked about as sad as I've felt these past few days. He asked me why he didn't, and I shrugged.

He said that he and some of the other doctors in here are going to be checking our phone calls, since they always record the phone calls any patient gets.

Am I worried? Well, yeah. I told Frank I was going to kidnap him again. I'm scared about what they're going to do to me.

Eh, it can't be that bad. They can't block phone calls from me, since I never get any.

I hope to God that they take Brendon away from me. I don't want to see his fucking face for a long time.

I… I just don't know what to do anymore. I truly believe I'm all alone in here. 

I'm going to die here. Alone.


	45. Thursday, Nov. 12, 2009

Thursday, Nov. 12, 2009  
**Mood:** Angsty  
**Listening to:** Brendon having another orgasm

I liked Tom. Y'know. As a friend. Not in the romantic sense.

But it's really strange I kinda broke inside when I walked into the cafeteria a few minutes ago and found him sitting at a table with his guy, holding hands, and kissing. I went to the cafeteria, because I was hungry, and it was really late, so nobody would make fun of the way I eat, but when I saw Tom and whoever the other guy was, I froze and ran out. I sat outside my room, and Tom showed up after a few minutes. He sat down next to me and told me that that guy was Mark or Spaulding. I don't know. They called each other names that were really weird. Tom was Boomer or something. I'm not even sure. All I know is that Tom has a boyfriend.

And I hurt inside.

I told Tom to go away, and now, I'm still sitting out in the hallway as I write this.

Brendon was nice enough to come out and give me my journal. He's still giddy about Ryan. I heard him moaning out his name various times over the course of several minutes. I think he's humping a pillow.

It better not be mine.


	46. Friday, Nov. 13, 2009

Friday, Nov. 13, 2009  
**Mood:** Satisfied  
**Eating:** Frankenberry  
**Drinking:** Coffee

Today, Brendon stopped ignoring me. Well, he actually started to come out of the whole phase he went through when he first saw Ryan, but him not ignoring me goes with that.

I guess I'm happy. I'm not really sure what to feel. 

I feel empty, like I'm living through these days on a rough cloud filled with dark matter that consumes me when I try to move around.

So, I rarely move. I sit on my bed all day. I only write in my journal. This is my only friend now. 

Brendon's not.

Tom's not.

Hell, I don't really count Frank as my friend anymore.

Isn't that a bit sad, Journal? I don't think Frank's my friend. It makes me hurt, but I think I'll get over it.

Probably not, though. 

I have a really bad feeling I'm going to die here by my own hand before I get to see Frank again. I don't know. Maybe I need to talk to Biersack, get some more pills, medication, _I don't know_.

Fuck, Brendon's back. Oh, look, he got me a bowl of Frankenberry.

And a cup of coffee.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.


	47. Saturday, Nov. 14, 2009

Saturday, Nov. 14, 2009  
**Mood:** Nervous

I'm even starting to think Biersack doesn't want to be around me. 

As soon as I stepped into his room to ask him a question, his eyes got wide, and he told me he had to go home, because there was a family emergency that just happened right when I stepped into the room.

I call that bullshit. 

I stood by his door for thirty minutes before entering. I was listening, thinking about what I was going to say to him, and when I walked in, he just spits out shit and walks off.

I'm starting to believe I'm not ever going to get out of this place if the therapists can't even help me. 

I'm going to end up staying here forever. 

Well, at least Brendon will be staying with me. We got in here on the same crime, so we'll leave at the same time. 

Hopefully.

He's been hinting that he's leaving soon.

Am I coming with him?


	48. Monday, Nov. 16, 2009

Monday, Nov. 16, 2009  
**Mood:** Peaceful

I stayed at the institution yesterday. I told them I was sick, and when they didn't believe me, I made myself throw up. Their backs were turned, so it was okay. 

I got to stay in bed and sleep. It was pretty cool, considering all the patients were gone all day just to go to church and a restaurant afterwards, so that meant I didn't get to see Brendon for, like, the whole day. Yeah.

It was sorta sad when Brendon came back into our room and started asking me how I was feeling, if I threw up anymore, if I wanted him to do anything, etc. He just stood there, asking me, and I pretended to be asleep.

It made my chest hurt a little bit when he started to whine and softly cry, muttering things under his breath about Ryan and how he thought he was never going to get outta here. It's strange, because he was happy about leaving a few days ago. 

I'm confused. I feel like I should hold him or something. I probably will tonight, just so he can stop being such a baby.


	49. Tuesday, Nov. 17, 2009

Tuesday, Nov. 17, 2009  
**Mood:** Gloomy  
**Listening to:** Brendon laughing  
**Playing:** Puzzles

I stayed in my room all day long today, too. 

Brendon stayed with me. 

He seems a bit detached from everything. I'm not entirely sure why, though. He keeps telling me awful things, like "this may be the last time we do this, Gerard" and "I'm going to miss doing this with you, Gerard" and "I'm going to remember all the fun times we had while doing this, Gerard".

I started crying at random times. 

He held me through it, and it just made me cry even more. 

We're doing a puzzle together right now.

I don't want this to be our last.


	50. Wednesday, Nov. 18, 2009

Wednesday, Nov. 18, 2009  
**Mood:** Hopeful

Brendon left today.

He wrapped his arms around me, held me, and kissed my forehead. "You're going to be okay, Gerard," he told me, and I believed him. 

I saw him walk out the door with his bag over his shoulder. Ryan was waiting on the other side, eyes all wide, a big grin on his face. They embraced and walked off, hand-in-hand. 

I started crying right there.

I'm going to miss him.

I feel alone already. 

But, but, but I have some good news.

Frank called today.


	51. Friday, Feb. 19, 2010

Friday, Feb. 19, 2010  
**Mood:** Homesick  
**Drinking:** Cherry icee

I decided to buy a journal today after I got off work. I'm not sure where the urge came from, to be honest. I was just walking past the book store on my way out to the parking lot, and I just _had_ to go in there and get one. 

The cover's a plain black, and it reminds me of a sketchbook. I should get back into drawing. Maybe I should get around to making that comic book. 

I love comics.

Oh, I work at the record store I used to work at before I got taken into the institution, if you're wondering. 

Ah, good news, too! I got released a month ago. I'm so happy, but a bit sad. I still live alone. I rented a shitty apartment, and I'm staying there, because Mama wouldn't let me live with her. 

At least I got to keep my mattress-bed-thing. 

I feel safe under there. I still do. 

Frank and I had our first kiss under there.

I wonder how Frank's doing.


	52. Saturday, Feb. 20, 2010

Saturday, Feb. 20, 2010  
**Mood:** Unheard

After I got off work, I went and visited Frank.

I could tell he was very excited to see me, because his eyes got all wide, and his face turned pale, and he slammed the door in my face. He probably went to throw up. That's what I did before I walked up to his front door.

I knocked on the door again, but he wouldn't answer. I found that strange, so I slid around to the back and looked through his window. 

He was on his bed, talking on the phone with a big white cat in his lap.

I watched him for a few minutes, maybe even an hour, until he stopped talking on the phone and turned his head to look out the window. He got all happy, then, and he jumped from his bed and dropped the blinds over my face.

I have a feeling he's probably planning something _big_ for us.

I'll just come back tomorrow.


	53. Sunday, Feb. 21, 2010

Sunday, Feb. 21, 2010  
**Mood:** Hysterical

Guess who works at the pizza shop in the food court!

That's right.

 _Frank_.

I'm able to sit down by the register in the record store, and if I lean to the side just right, I can watch him. He's mostly up front, taking orders for people. I want to go over there and order an icee, but I have no money with me. I wasted it all when I got my paycheck.

I'm carefully watching him now. He's standing by the counter, leaning on his elbows, looking bored. 

He looks beautiful! Oh, how I want him to be mine again.

Wow, my fingers just twitched against my journal. I wonder why.

I, I wanna take him again.

I mean, _NO_!! I didn't say that. Fuck. Gotta mark that out.


	54. Monday, Feb. 22, 2010

Monday, Feb. 22, 2010  
**Mood:** Attractive  
**Listening to:** "Telephone" by Lady Gaga, featuring Beyoncé 

The record store's playing a really catchy song, and I'm dancing to it in my head.

I'm watching Frank, too. He doesn't know it, though. Don't tell him. 

I have a little bit of money in my pocket. Maybe I'll go over there and talk to him.

I do. I have some.

Plus, it turns out that I barely have enough money to even buy an icee. 

"Uh, I think this is a dollar," I had said when I pulled out a couple coins, mostly nickels.  
"This isn't enough."  
"Um, how about this?" I pulled out a penny.

Frank told me to keep my money, and he paid for it, so I guess I feel a bit better since I have sugar in my system. 

Our fingers also touched when he handed me my drink, and I can just tell a shock was sent through our veins or something like that. 

I felt it, and I think he did, too! 

I'm going to come back tomorrow. Wait, I need money. _Fuck_.


	55. Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010

Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010  
**Mood:** Optimistic  


Earlier today, I asked Frank to come over to my house. I even wrote down my address for him and everything, just in case he didn't know where the new place I'm staying was. 

He said he'll try to visit, and he even gave me a smile!

So, as you can probably guess, I'm very, very, very excited right now. I can't wait for him to arrive! 

I have our whole evening planned out! 

First, I'm going to fix us some Italian cuisine—pasta—and then hopefully attempt to hold him while we watch _Let the Right One In_. Maybe it'll help him remember all the good times we had when we were younger, still together. 

We may even make love, _lalala_.

I'm sitting on the couch while I'm writing this entry. I'm waiting for the door to open. Frank's going to walk in at any moment.

I know he will.


	56. Wednesday, Feb. 24, 2010

Wednesday, Feb. 24, 2010  
**Mood:** Outraged

Frank didn't come over yesterday.

I'm so angry. I thought he would come over. He said he would. Why would he lie to me?

I'm just going to get over it. The old Gerard would've gotten depressed, threw up a little, and then went on to try and kidnap him again.

But, but, but. This is the new Gerard, who has medication, and who has gone to therapy, and who has been sent to an institution for almost a year. So, I'm going to handle this more maturely.

I'm going to sit down in the food court at the mall and stare at him until his shift ends.

Yeah. That sounds pretty good.


	57. Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010

Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010  
**Mood:** Hopeless

Mikey just called. 

He told me Mama's really sick. He had to take her to the hospital. I, I don't know what's wrong with her. I don't want her to die. I already lost Daddy. 

I'm heading over there right now. I gotta comfort Mikey. 

I can stalk Frank tomorrow.


	58. Friday, Feb. 26, 2010

Friday, Feb. 26, 2010  
**Mood:** Desperate

I'm in such a bad mood, and I don't even know why. I'm trying to cheer myself up by stalking Frank, seducing him, whatever. 

He bought me another icee, and I just stood there and watched him, sucking on the straw, licking at it. He didn't get that turned on, though, which disappoints me. Maybe I've lost my edge. Fuck.

I continued to stand at the counter, just watching him and slurping on my icee until he told me to go. 

I didn't. I proceeded to talk to him.

"So, how are you doing these days?"  
"Just fine."

I wanted to ask if he was single, but I knew the answer was going to be "no", because I've seen him around the mall holding hands with a black-haired girl. It hurts me, so maybe that's why I didn't have the guts to ask. I didn't want to hear him confirm it. 

I don't know. I'll come back tomorrow and try to get him to talk to me more.


	59. Saturday, Feb. 27, 2010

Saturday, Feb. 27, 2010  
**Mood:** Questionable  
**Watching:** _South Park_

Frank went into the store today. He didn't look at me, but he slowly went over to the movie aisle and started to browse. 

It took awhile before he went over to the counter, holding a DVD case to his chest. He laid it on the counter and kept his head down. "I want that."

It was _Pokémon: The First Movie_. I got happy. I rang it up for him, and from there, we just started talking. 

He eventually wanted me to drive him home, and he invited me over to his house tomorrow. 

I don't know if I should go. I don't want to show up, and then he's going to act like he never asked me to come over.

What should I do?


	60. Sunday, Feb. 28, 2010

Sunday, Feb. 28, 2010  
**Mood:** Rejected

I just got back from Frank's. I really wanted to spend the night, but… Jamia, his _girlfriend_ , was coming over. Even though I really wanted to protest, I acted mature, kicked a pillow, and headed out.

Frank said he missed hanging out with me, too. But the thing is, he said "as friends".

I missed him, and I'm glad I can talk to him again, but is that all we'll ever be now?

Just friends?


	61. Monday, Mar. 1, 2010

Monday, Mar. 1, 2010  
**Mood:** Tense  
**Listening to:** My thoughts (I want a fucking cat) 

I called Frank yesterday. Yeah, I have his phone number. We talked for a little bit, but I could tell he didn't want to talk to me. He seemed distracted. 

I'm running outta pills. I gotta get Biersack to order me some more or something. I don't know who manages that kinda stuff.

Yes, I still go to Biersack. We agreed Dr. Miller didn't do anything to help me _at all_.

He's been helping me a lot, though—Biersack. I’m almost never depressed now. Well… I take pills… So, that could be helping.

I want a hug. 

Mama's not doing any better. I'm actually at the hospital right now. Mikey's lying beside me, all curled into a small ball. His head's in my lap. I'm stroking his hair. 

I hope she'll be okay. If not, I'll get Mikey to move in with me, so we can be lonely together. Or maybe I'll get Frank to move in… 

Or, or, _or_ I could get a cat. 

Fuck, yeah—a cat.


	62. Tuesday, Mar. 2, 2010

Tuesday, Mar. 2, 2010  
**Mood:** Jolly  
**Watching:** _Weeds_

Frank wasn't at work today, so I had to do something else besides stalking in my free time. 

I had to sort out DVDs and shit, because just sitting at the cash register wasn't productive. I mean, what else could I do? I was waiting for Frank to come into work late, but then again, he's probably sick. His immune system's not that good, and from where I locked him in a basement for a few months without any outside contact, it could have lowered his immune system down even more, because he wasn't exposed to shit, like germs and diseases and all that.

Well, I'm not a doctor, so I wouldn't know.

Actually, he was sick. I'm texting him now. He said he had a cold, which probably means it's like he's in the 1900s, and he's trying to fight off the Spanish Influenza, and he just can't. Or it's like, he's a Native American in, like, the fucking… past. I don't know the years. I'm bad at history and stuff like that.

The important thing is I'm texting Frank, and I couldn't be happier right now.


	63. Wednesday, Mar. 3, 2010

Wednesday, Mar. 3, 2010  
**Mood:** Lazy

I've been sitting on the couch watching TV all day. I think I'm gaining a bit of weight, too. I can pinch at it on my stomach.

Frank won't like me like this.

I totally didn't just make myself gag with my pencil.

The weird part is I'm still sitting on the couch. Yeah, I didn't get up. It kinda smells. I'll clean it up later.

Fuck, Mikey just called. I managed to grab my phone before it hit voicemail. I have to go to the hospital. Mikey wants me there. I'm getting worried.

Ew, more vomit is on the floor.

I guess I'll clean that up before I go. 

I don't want to, but I guess it has to be done.


	64. Thursday, Mar. 4, 2010

Thursday, Mar. 4, 2010  
**Mood:** Scared

Last night, Mama died in her sleep. Mikey knew her time was coming, so he wanted me there with him. 

He doesn't know where to go now. He's not eighteen yet. I told him he could stay with his ol' brother Gee, but he looked kinda repulsed by the idea, and he went outside to talk to his girlfriend or something.

I don't know what to do with myself. I wouldn't call myself an orphan, because I'm not a child anymore. 

I really miss her.

How am I gonna pay for a funeral? I can barely support myself. Aren't funerals expensive? 

_Shit, fuck, cock, piss_. What am I gonna do?


	65. Friday, Mar. 5, 2010

Friday, Mar. 5, 2010  
**Mood:** Emotional  
**Watching:** The bus drive away  
**Drinking:** Coffee

I hate today.

Nothing can make up for the face Mama died last night. Fuck. 

I got up really early today, even if it hurt a bit. I wanted to see Frank, so I went over to his house, and then followed him to the bus stop. I think it's a bit sad that I didn't know he rode the bus to school. I thought he drove… Does he know how to drive?

Anyway, I went over to him, and oh, my fucking God, he looked so fucking cute. 

He was wrapped up in a scarf, and he had on big, thick, black glasses, and he was drinking from a coffee cup. 

I stood next to him, and the first thing he told me was "I'm sorry".

My lips had started to tremble, but I stayed strong and told him it was okay. 

He asked me if I would be able to afford the funeral.

I told him that the average funeral costs twelve-thousand to fifteen-thousand dollars. 

He looked over at me, handed me the coffee. He wanted me to have it. I took it, drank some of it. He, then, inquired if I could afford that.

I shook my head, softly informed him I couldn't.


	66. Saturday, Mar. 6, 2010

Saturday, Mar. 6, 2010  
**Mood:** Uneasy  
**Listening to:** "Who Is It?" by Michael Jackson

 _I CAN'T PAY FOR A FUCKING FUNERAL_ , _GODDAMNIT_.

I tried to talk to my boss today, so I can get a raise, which means I'll get money in no time, but he's a dick, and told me no. I wanna jam his head into a toilet and watch him drown.

I went back to work and took a few bills outta the cash register. It was just a few ones. Nobody's going to miss them. 

But only a few ones aren't gonna cover the cost of a funeral.

I'm sorry, Mama. I'm trying.


	67. Sunday, Mar. 7, 2010

Sunday, Mar. 7, 2010  
**Mood:** Obsessed

Guess who stopped by my apartment before I was about to jump into the shower!

That's right! 

Frankie. _Insert smiley face here_.

He had out his wallet when I opened the door, and when I asked him what he was doing, he asked me how much money I needed. 

I bit my lip and told him the funeral cost around twelve thousand. 

He pulled out seven thousand.

At that moment, I started to think he was selling drugs, but he assured me he got it from his father, his mother; he even put money into it. 

I didn't want to take the money from him, but he insisted, so I held onto it and kissed his mouth.

I swear, he kissed me back! And it sent shivers down my spine. It felt so good. 

I think I'm going to go to the bus stop tomorrow. Y'know, just to see Frank.

But first, I gotta take a shower. I wanna smell like coconuts.


	68. Monday, Mar. 8, 2010

Monday, Mar. 8, 2010  
**Mood:** Doubtful

I don't know what's wrong with me. 

This morning, I went to the bust stop to see Frank, talk to him, etc., but then, well, something came over me.

I saw him.

I ran.

He looked over his shoulder.

He started to run.

I caught him.

I wouldn't let go.

He screamed.

He pushed me away.

We ran again.

He got on the bus.

And I ended up lying in the grass all day before moving to sit on his front porch.

His mother invited me inside for dinner.

I said "maybe", and I'm still sitting on the porch, waiting for Frank to come home. No, no— _come back_ … from school. Yeah. He wouldn't come back to me.


	69. Tuesday, Mar. 9, 2010

Tuesday, Mar. 9, 2010  
**Mood:** Longing  
**Listening to:** My thoughts again (I still want a cat) 

Yesterday, Frank's mother fixed us some pasta. It was good. I haven't had any well-cooked meals ever since… well, since the last time I was with Mama, and that was probably before I got sent to the institution. I feel bad now for ditching her. I'm not a very good son.

 _But_ I am a very good boyfriend. 

I followed Frank to his room while his mother was doing the dishes, and he completely ignored me for some reason. I'm not sure why. I mean, I'm right there. You shouldn't ignore someone when they're the only person in the room with you. It makes them feel bad, even worse than they need to be.

It annoyed me that he wouldn't even look at me, so I grabbed him by his neck and slammed his face into his desk. 

I tried to make up for hurting his pretty face by kissing him, but he shoved me away and told me to leave.

He's so rude.

I like his cat, though. It's all big and fluffy and white. 

Her name's Casper.


	70. Wednesday, Mar. 10, 2010

Wednesday, Mar. 10, 2010  
**Mood:** Apprehensive

 _It's so hot outside_. _Fuck_.

At least I'm inside the mall for most of the day. Working at the record store. Woo.

I saw Frank a couple hours ago. He walked in here with a little lady, and they were holding hands. 

I'm only guessing, but the little lady's hand was probably just glued to his or something, because there's _no way_ he would be cheating on me with that thing. I mean, _seriously_. I'm hotter than that girl. If Frank has a girl fetish or something, I can always dress up like a girl. All I need is a dress, and then I'll be a girl. I think I may need some boobs, but I dunno. I could just say I'm a girl. That's what makes me a girl—if I say I'm a girl.

I gotta go restock shelves.


	71. Thursday, Mar. 11, 2010

Thursday, Mar. 11, 2010  
**Mood:** Screwed  
**Drinking:** Coffee

I think I'm going to stop going to church. 

I'm a Catholic, well, was, I don't know now.

I'm scared for some reason. If I go, what will happen? I don't feel comfortable anymore.

If I decide to go again, I'm gonna bring Mikey with me, even if he doesn't wanna go. 

Everyone needs Jesus in their life, right?

Too bad I'm, like, borderline Atheist.


	72. Friday, Mar. 12, 2010

Friday, Mar. 12, 2010  
**Mood:** Sexually frustrated  
**Eating:** A pretzel

 _I'm stalking Frank today_.  
_Stalking Frank today_.  
_Frank today_.  
_Today_. Frank.

I need so much fucking help it's not even funny anymore. 

I think Frank saw me, though, just saying. Well, I was just sitting in the food court, staring him down. He scratched his neck and looked up, and we made eye contact, and it was fabulous, and then I ran over to the pretzel stand and got myself a pretzel with some loose change I found in my Trans AM.

 _I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, FRANK_.  
_WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE TEARING ME INSIDE OUT WHENEVER YOU LOOK AT ME_?  
_WHEN YOU'RE HOLDING HANDS WITH THAT GIRL_ ,  
_I KNOW YOUR BODY SAYS YOU ENJOY IT WITH HER_ ,  
_BUT I KNOW YOUR HEART AND MIND SAY_ come back and let that creepy fucker fuck you.

Dear God. What's wrong with me?


	73. Saturday, Mar. 13, 2010

Saturday, Mar. 13, 2010  
**Mood:** Hopeful  
**Listening to:** Michael Jackson

 _I hate, hate, hate my life, hate, hate, hate my life, hate, hate, hate my life_.

I'm a very beautiful singer.

Now, you're probably wondering why I hate my life. _Well,_ , I saw Frank holding hands with that girl again, and then he fucking ignored me when I tried to talk to him! I mean, that's just rude! Aren't we friends? Friends don’t ignore each other. 

I will cry about this later on tonight. 

I know I will. I'm such an emotional baby that it's not even funny anymore. 

Oh, yeah, I'm running outta anti-depressants, but I guess you guys already figured that out by the way I'm acting… writing… blah, blah, _blah_.

The funeral's tomorrow for Mama. 

Frank's coming. 

Well, I hope he is.

I'd be devastated if he doesn't show up.


	74. Sunday, Mar. 14, 2010

Sunday, Mar. 14, 2010  
**Mood:** In pain

I didn't cry at all during the funeral, which was a bit strange. I thought I would be on the ground, rolling around and weeping, but I guess not.

After it was over, Frank and his mother stayed, and we all went to Arby's, and I even came over to Frank's house.

We almost fucked, but Frank, well… 

"Doesn't your mom care that you're having sex? That you're fucking around with your girlfriend? With me?"  
"No, she doesn't care."  
"Oh. Mama would be having a fit if she knew I was having sex with you."  
"Well, _Mama_ isn't here right now, is she?"

And that just caused all the tears to spill out that I kept holding back for so long during the funeral. 

He held me. I cried. And now I have a headache.


	75. Monday, Mar. 15, 2010

Monday, Mar. 15, 2010  
**Mood:** Content

Frank's stupid. When I wake up with an even worse headache from the night before, all I want to do is curl into bed, never move, and sleep forever.

But no, he had to start shaking me, telling me to wake up, because he had to go to school.

Finally, I convinced him that I was going to leave while he was at school; I had to sleep for a few more hours, though.

He gladly accepted that offer, and then I went on to sleep for the rest of the day.

And not leaving.

When he came home, he found out that I made his room into a mess, with tossing his blankets and other belongings around. Oh, and his window was open, and his cat was about to escape. Yeah. I'm a good room-sitter.

So, anyway, I ended up leaving his house around six after I agreed to help him clean up everything. It's the least I could do, I guess.


	76. Tuesday, Mar. 16, 2010

Tuesday, Mar. 16, 2010  
**Mood:** Depressed  
**Listening to:** Taylor Swift

I just got back from the mall.

Today, I woke up feeling like shit, and since they gave me a few days off work due to the funeral, I decided to go shopping with what little money I have.

I bought a few CDs, some new sketching pencils, and some clothes—clothes from Victoria's Secret.

Their clothes are comfortable. 

I'm wearing some of their shorts now while listening to a Taylor Swift CD I impulse-bought. 

I'm so depressed.


	77. Wednesday, Mar. 17, 2010

Wednesday, Mar. 17, 2010  
**Mood:** Hungry

I've been walking about the neighborhood for some time now. I keep downing cigarettes. 

I'm actually hoping to meet Frank somewhere around here. I don't want him thinking I'm stalking him if I show up at his house all the time. 

Well, I'm kinda a stalker, but oh, well. 

I'm sitting on the curb now, writing. It's kinda chilly outside. I'm hungry. Thirsty, too. Maybe I will go to Frank’s house… but, what if that girlfriend of his is there? 

I'm still going over there. I'll just say I wanted to see his cat, Casper. Yeah. That's what I'll do.


	78. Thursday, Mar. 18, 2010

Thursday, Mar. 18, 2010  
**Mood:** Thrilled  
**Listening to:** Boo

Frank and I have been Skype-ing each other. Is that even a verb? Can you Skype someone? Can someone be Skype-ing? I'm stupid. I'll shut up.

Anyway, we were just on Skype, and then I see his cat jump up and take over the screen, 'cause she's really fat. 

And, and, and then, I just had to show Frank my cat! 

Yeah, I have a cat now! Well, actually, it's a kitten. I saw it wondering around on the streets, and I felt sorry for it, so I took it in.

I'm pretty sure it's a female. Hopefully. It's small, a light-gray color, and she has a pink nose and pink pads on her paws. 

I named her Boo. 

She's so cute! 

So, Boo jumped up, and Frank started saying that she was cute and everything, but he asked me if I could afford the food and all the vet visits for it. 

Of course I do. Why would I adopt a baby cat and not be able to afford anything for it…? 


	79. Friday, Mar. 19, 2010

Friday, Mar. 19, 2010  
**Mood:** Amused  
**Playing:** With Boo

Frank was sick whenever I was Skype-ing with him, so I went over to his house and hung out with him.

It was really fun. We cuddled. Well, not really. We rolled around on the bed together, knocking around shit . We tickled each other. We had a fucking pillow fight. 

Let's just say we acted like we were happy teenagers again. 

And it was _fun_.

Too bad I couldn't stay the night, though. I really wanted to hold him, kiss his little forehead, make love to him…

I'm somewhat surprised that I'm the man in this relationship. Y'know, I fuck him. Doesn't that make me the man? 

No, that's… _bad_ and _ignorant_ … I'm just going to play with Boo.

But first, I'm going to take a shower.


	80. Saturday, Mar. 20, 2010

Saturday, Mar. 20, 2010  
**Mood:** Sick

Fuck. I think Frank got me sick. I woke up with a really bad headache, and I was all out of Tylenol, so I had to do my daily shit with it hanging over my head. It sucks. I want to _DIE_.

Boo's so cute, though. She was following me around the house, meowing and stuff. It was adorable until I turned around and took a step, and she ended up tripping me. 

That did not make me a happy Gerard. 

Anyway, I think I'm going to go over to Frank's, and we can walk around the neighborhood and shoot snot at strangers.


	81. Sunday, Mar. 21, 2010

Sunday, Mar. 21, 2010  
**Mood:** Excited

I saw Brendon today! He came into the record store, and we talked. 

I was really surprised, because he actually remembered who I was. 

And he didn't seem repulsed by me at all! He hugged me and asked me how I was, like he cared. I missed him, and I never realized that until I saw him today. 

He's still dating Ryan, which makes me happy. They were cute together. 

Now, I'm off to Frank's. We're going to watch _A Nightmare on Elm Street_. 


	82. Monday, Mar. 22, 2010

Monday, Mar. 22, 2010  
**Mood:** Crazy

Frank totally put the moves on me last night.

When we were watching the movie, he slowly started to lay his head on my shoulder, and I held onto his waist, carefully pressing him into my side.

And oh, my God, we just sat like that through the whole thing, and it was _perfect_. It almost brings tears to my eyes whenever I think about it right now. Fuck. I'm so happy and shit. 

And no, I didn't do anything else. I didn't even kiss him or touch him or even fuck him or anything! I'm so proud of myself. I think I finally learned self-control or something… Okay, maybe not, but I'm pretty surprised I didn't attack Frank. 

So, now, I'm going to feed Boo, and then take another shower. I wanna smell like coconuts.


	83. Tuesday, Mar. 23, 2010

Tuesday, Mar. 23, 2010  
**Mood:** Sympathic

I stopped by Frank's work today. He looked devastated, like his mom died or something. I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he just shook it off and ran outside, saying how he needed a smoke break. Of course, I followed him.

I sat by him, held onto him while he smoked, and he finally told me what was wrong. 

"She's pregnant."

My world fell apart, like his. 

We stayed outside for a while, inhaling cigarettes. Then, he turned to me and told me what he wanted to name his child, no matter the sex. 

"Abortion, but I don't think Jamia'll like it."

I held onto him.


	84. Wednesday, Mar. 24, 2010

Wednesday, Mar. 24, 2010  
**Mood:** Frustrated

Today, Frank and I hung out. He seemed kinda distracted, and he kept asking me what he should tell Jamia. So, I suspected he only came over, because he didn't want his girlfriend to know where he was, like he was trying to avoid her. 

That made me feel incredible, knowing your friend's using you.

Well, I'm a hypocrite, because I'm pretty sure I probably used Brendon when we were at the institution together. It's weird how we first met, I hated him, and now, I'm missing his company. 

It's so confusing.


	85. Thursday, Mar. 25, 2010

Thursday, Mar. 25, 2010  
**Mood:** Delighted  
**Watching:** _Corpse Bride_

I heard a scratching at my window, and when I went to go check what had made it, I found Frank standing below. 

He tapped at the window again, and then smiled. "Can I come in?"

I smiled back, and then let him in. 

He climbed in, and he hugged me. "Let's watch _Corpse Bride_." He dragged me off to the living room.

I asked him why, and he told me he was supposed to go over to Jamia's and watch it with her, but he decided to come over to my place and watch it with me instead. 

So, now, I'm watching the movie with Frank leaning against my side and with Boo on my lap.

I'm happy right now.


	86. Friday, Mar. 26, 2010

Friday, Mar. 26, 2010  
**Mood:** Worried

Frank didn't wake up this morning.

I shook him and shook him, but he didn't wake up.

After watching _Corpse Bride_ , Frank kinda dragged me into the bedroom, complaining of a headache. We lay in bed for a little while, and I guess I fell asleep, because I remember waking up in the middle of the night to Frank slipping into the bathroom.

I just shrugged it off and rolled over in bed.

But in the morning, when I was waking Frank up to go to school, he wouldn't!

I didn't want to leave him alone, so I called in sick for work.

It's been a few hours, and he's still asleep.

I hope he's okay.


	87. Saturday, Mar. 27, 2010

Saturday, Mar. 27, 2010  
**Mood:** Scared

Frank woke up around six in the evening yesterday. I'm so relieved. I thought he wasn't going to wake up.

It turns out he had taken a few of my sleeping pills, because he was stressed too much over Jamia. 

I guess I can understand that. I mean, I would be stressed, too, if my girlfriend was pregnant, and I didn't want the child. 

Well, I'm a little on the _gay_ side, so there's a reason why I wouldn't want to have a girlfriend or a child, for that matter.

Frank's still here. He didn’t want to leave. I'm not letting him out of my sight. He doesn't need to take my sleeping pills.

He could mistake the sleeping pills for something else and could ingest something dangerous.

I mean… I just don't want him taking sleeping pills.


	88. Sunday, Mar. 28, 2010

Sunday, Mar. 28, 2010  
**Mood:** Argumentative

Frank left yesterday. I told him to call me and tell me if something happens. He hasn't called me yet, but I know he will. He's on Skype currently. I know. I'm on, too, and I'm waiting for him to send me a webcam chat thing. 

Just waiting.

I see that Jamia's online, too… Frank's still on… I wonder if they're talking. I hope not. 

Talking leads to friendship.

Friendship leads to relationships.

Relationships lead to sex.

Sex leads to babies.

And babies lead to abortions that stupid girlfriends won’t have.

That's it. I'll just punch the baby outta her.

I'm being so bitter.


	89. Monday, Mar. 29, 2010

Monday, Mar. 29, 2010  
**Mood:** Aroused

The strangest thing happened today. When I walked out of my apartment, Frank was there, sitting by the door. I jumped, of course. Why wouldn't I? Frank slowly stood up and tried to maintain eye contact with me. He sorta stared me down, and it was really intimidating, and then he only said he was spending the night here. He walked into the house, dragging a bag behind him. I didn't even see the bag.

I don't really wanna question why he's staying here, but I feel like I should.

Frank mentioned seeing Jamia's parents over the whole ordeal, and how he wanted to skip it, but I'm not sure I heard him correctly…

Frank didn't want to skip meeting his soon-to-be in-laws.

Frank didn't want an abortion.

Frank doesn't want to cuddle.

Frank isn't curled up to my side.

 _Oh_ , _my God_ , _he's breathing on my neck_.


	90. Tuesday, Mar. 30, 2010

Tuesday, Mar. 30, 2010  
**Mood:** Anxious

Last night was so frustrating.

First, whenever I got all settled into my bed, Frank decided to crawl into it. 

Second, when I tried to pull the blankets up to my chin, Frank grabbed a handful and pulled them around him.

Third, when I turned away from Frank to try and get some sleep, he poked at my toes with his own and eventually intertwined them.

And then, when I finally started to fall asleep, Frank fucking buried his head into my hair.

I couldn't sleep at all after that.

When I woke up this morning, Frank was practically on top of me, and I had to do my hardest not to ravish him right then and there.

It was hard… but I did it.

He went to school today, and half of me is hoping he doesn't come back for another night.

But the other half really wants him to come back… and really wants to know what'll happen tonight.


	91. Wednesday, Mar. 31, 2010

Wednesday, Mar. 31, 2010  
**Mood:** Furious

Frank didn't want to go home today.

As soon as he woke up, he looked at me with wide eyes and immediately shook his head. "I don't wanna leave. Let me stay, please."

I began to extend my arms toward him, and I was about to say "come to Gee. I'm here for you," but I stopped myself. Something didn't seem right.

I asked him why he didn't want to leave.

He said he was supposed to meet up with Jamia today.

A heated argument and several minutes later, Frank's gone, and my room's a mess.

So much for being there for him.


	92. Thursday, Apr. 1, 2010

Thursday, Apr. 1, 2010  
**Mood:** Agony  
**Watching:** _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_

 _There's no post on Sundays_.

I'm trying to cheer myself up by watching _Harry Potter_ , but I don't really think it's working. Frank's still on my mind, and it's making me sick. I don't like being used. It makes me feel worthless. Why would he do this to me? Friends don't use friends.

I'm such a hypocrite. I used Brendon whenever I wanted Frank, and I'm fucking using Boo, because I wanted someone to hold, since Frank wouldn't be with me.

I don't know what to do. I want Frank, but, but… He has Jamia.

I was here first! I deserve him.

Well, actually, he was dating Jamia before I took him, but I still own him. I've always owned him. Why doesn't he understand that?!

I'm depressed.

I'll eat some ice cream.

I'm so gross and fat and disgusting, and no wonder Frank doesn't want me.


	93. Friday, Apr. 2, 2010

Friday, Apr. 2, 2010  
**Mood:** Exhilarated  
**Listening to:** Boo meow

I'm starting to worry about Frank. I know it's only been, like, a day or something, but I miss him, and I'm starting to think he wants to continue being with Jamia, and that makes me angry.

Like, really angry. I punched a pillow just thinking about it.

I'm going to take Boo out for a walk and pass by Frank's house and check if he's home.

Is it considered stalking if you're strolling by someone's house?

 _Nah_.


	94. Saturday, Apr. 3, 2010

Saturday, Apr. 3, 2010  
**Mood:** Tired

Frank's at work today, but he hasn't been talking to me. 

No, I'm not watching him. I'm sitting at the register in my own little work station, and I happen to glance his way a few times. He's perfect, even when he's scratching his face or handing food to customers. 

I want to talk to him. I want to take him on that counter where everybody can watch. 

I'll give him some space. Yeah, that's what he needs. Space.


	95. Sunday, Apr. 4, 2010

Sunday, Apr. 4, 2010  
**Mood:** Ignored

When I tried to go to bed last night, I ended up getting woken up by Frank knocking on my window. Boo started to mewl, and she tried to jump to sit on the sill, but I stopped her just in time. 

I looked at Frank and frowned, while he smiled. 

"Can I come in?"

" _Sure_."

And now, it's around three, maybe four, in the morning, and Frank's lying in my bed, asleep, and probably not going to wake up for some time.

Boo's on his face.

Traitor.


	96. Monday, Apr. 5, 2010

Monday, Apr. 5, 2010  
**Mood:** Sexually frustrated

I woke up about thirty minutes ago. I think it's four thirty. 

The main reason why I woke this early was because Frank had slipped off into the bathroom again. The thought of him overdosing overcame me, so I ran in there to check on him.

When I walked in there, Frank wasn't taking any pills, but he was taking a shower. Well… He wasn't actually in there yet… but he was completely undressed. 

He was just standing there in all of his pride and glory! He had his hand on the shower dial, and the water was on, but he just stood there, looking at me! I mean _come on_! That's totally unfair. Right?

We kinda stood there, across from each other, and I had to try so hard to not tackle him. _FUCK_.

I'm in my room now, sitting on my bed, writing in my journal, trying to contain my feelings. 

Frank's taking a shower, I think.


	97. Tuesday, Apr. 6, 2010

Tuesday, Apr. 6, 2010  
**Mood:** Jealous

Frank left a few minutes ago, telling me he'll actually talk to Jamia and her parents today. I felt a bit proud, but at the same time, I felt like he wasn't actually going to go talk to them. 

I don't know… I feel bad now. Maybe I should have let him stay a little bit longer… He already skipped school. What could skipping the meet with Jamia's parents do?

Well… It'll be terrible… I couldn't do that to him. 

I'm thinking Frank's starting to get used to the idea of Jamia getting pregnant or something. I don't know. I don't want him to change his mind and decide he wants to keep the kid.

I want him to have a kid with me!

I'm so stupid. Frank wouldn't want that in a million years.


	98. Wednesday, Apr. 7, 2010

Wednesday, Apr. 7, 2010  
**Mood:** Worried  
**Watching:** Boo being cute and adorable

Frank's at the hospital. Apparently there've been some complications with Jamia's baby. 

He sounded a little distressed over the phone whenever he called me. Should I go over there? I don't give a fuck if Jamia's in the same room as him. I'll still hold him and nuzzle him and kiss him no matter what. _HE NEEDS MY LOVE_.

I dunno. Maybe I'll stay here. Boo needs company, too. 

What the hell is wrong with me? 

I'm picking a cat over the love of my life. 

But, but Boo's so cute… and, aw, she's rubbing against my legs. 

I think I'll stay home. I can call Frank anytime and see how he's doing if I get too worried about him.

You can't call a cat and ask them how they're doing.


	99. Thursday, Apr. 8, 2010

Thursday, Apr. 8, 2010  
**Mood:** Blissful

Jamia had a miscarriage. 

And I'm sorta glad. I mean, Frank's not having a baby! But the other thing is that Frank's… not that affected.

Like, he came over to my house, told me the news, and he looked dead for a few moments before shrugging it off and smiling. Then, while pulling out a packet of cigarettes, he invited himself in.

Now, we're lying on the floor, smoking away the night.

Things couldn't be more perfect.


	100. Friday, Apr. 9, 2010

Friday, Apr. 9, 2010  
**Mood:** Pleased

Frank didn't go to school, yet again. I don't know how many days he's skipped so far, but I'm not complaining right now.

Today was, and still is, perfect. 

I'm leaning against my bed with my arm draped over Frank's shoulders. I'm holding him close, and he's stroking my chest, playing with the hem of my shirt. I can feel his fingers on my skin… and it feels nice.

Everything's nice now.


	101. Monday, Nov. 7, 2011

Monday, Nov. 7, 2011  
**Mood:** Excited  
**Watching:** Pumpkin and Boo play 

Sorry. I just got another journal. My other one ran out of pages, and I finally got off my lazy ass to get another one. I like writing in them.

Anyway, Pumpkin and I rented a new apartment. We're going to live together. 

The apartment is really nice. I like it here, and I can tell Pumpkin does, as well. Oh, and Boo likes it here, too! Yeah, I still have Boo. She's still going strong.

I thought I should let you guys get caught up with what I'm up to, since, like, a year ago. Whoa, look at me. I'm writing in my journal, thinking someone'll actually read this.

Now, I gotta go. Pumpkin and I have to unpack.


	102. Tuesday, Nov. 8, 2011

Tuesday, Nov. 8, 2011  
**Mood:** Tired

It's around midnight right now. Maybe a few minutes before it turns to the new day. 

I'm in bed, Pumpkin and Boo at my feet. They're really cute. Pumpkin fell asleep on top of a _Harry Potter_ book, and Boo's beside Pumpkin. It makes me want to squeal.

Aw. I'm petting Pumpkin's ears now! They're so soft! Aw, they just twitched. 

I better go to bed now.


	103. Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2011

Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2011  
**Mood:** Dazed

Pumpkin woke me up this morning by licking my cheek. It was all wet and smooth, and it made my hopes for this day get brighter, like I'm going to accomplish something. 

So, I set off to work with a smile on my face. 

Yes, I still work at the record store. I'm still a cashier. Right now, I'm jotting down some notes for this comic I have in mind, but I know it'll just end up like the others—in the trash. 

If I tilt my head and seat to the side, I can see across the food court and at the pizza place. I see a brunet boy, and it makes me smile.

 _I remember you_.


	104. Thursday, Nov. 10, 2011

Thursday, Nov. 10, 2011  
**Mood:** Hungry  
**Watching:** Pumpkin eating

I can see the little brunet by the counter again. I'm going to go up to them, tell them I remember them, and see if they remember me.

And… they do!

"Hiya!"

Their eyes narrowed, and they seemed confused for a moment, but then they started laughing, and we hugged. "Missed you, Gerard."

"Missed you, too, Brendon."

He told me that he and Ryan are still together, which is fantastic! They're a cute couple. 

I told Pumpkin when I got home I found Brendon, and Pumpkin didn't really get my excitement. Pumpkin stared at me with a tilted head, and then went on to eat from my bowl of puppy chow I made. 

Oh, well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/puppy-chow/) is how you make puppy chow.


	105. Friday, Nov. 11, 2011

Friday, Nov. 11, 2011  
**Mood:** Adoration

Today, I took Pumpkin to work. I bought a pink collar with little diamond rhinestones all around it, so I can make sure no one will take my little pumpkin.

I also bought a leash, so I can pull Pumpkin around all day. 

Pumpkin's so cute! Just sitting on the counter and staring at me with delicate eyes. I wanna go in bed with Pumpkin and cuddle, cuddle, cuddle. 

I'm still working on that comic book. I was sketching out some characters, but Pumpkin stretched out and crumbled the papers, so now I can't work.


	106. Saturday, Nov. 12, 2011

Saturday, Nov. 12, 2011  
**Mood:** Thrilled

Today's Saturday, and you know what that means!

 _Date night_. 

I'm going to sit on the couch with Boo and Pumpkin and watch movies and eat food and all that good stuff.

I can have a fun time without anybody else around.

Yippee.


	107. Sunday, Nov. 13, 2011

Sunday, Nov. 13, 2011  
**Mood:** Joyful

Today, I decided to take a shower, and when I got out to grab a towel and dry off, I saw Pumpkin.

Pumpkin was perched on the toilet, staring at me.

I got on my knees, held Pumpkin's head in my hands. "Well, aren't you a cutie?"

And then, I kissed Pumpkin.


	108. Monday, Nov. 14, 2011

Monday, Nov. 14, 2011  
**Mood:** Wanted  
**Listening to:** Pumpkin and Boo

When I came home from work, I was _really_ hungry, but when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Pumpkin lying on the counter, almost in the sink.

I walked over and picked up Pumpkin, and I started rubbing Pumpkin's back and bouncing them, and then I ended up taking Pumpkin to my bedroom and letting them sit on me.

Then, Boo came up and sat on my face. I bet she's jealous.


	109. Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2011

Tuesday, Nov. 15, 2011  
**Mood:** Boring

I noticed, while walking around the neighborhood with Pumpkin and Boo today, that I'm really boring. 

I can tell Pumpkin and Boo don't think so, though. Boo always twirls around my ankles and meows at me, and Pumpkin lays on my face. 

I love them both. I really do.

Oh, and I hate people always look at me whenever I'm walking down the sidewalk or when I'm at work. I wonder if it's because I almost always bring Pumpkin. I can't leave Pumpkin at the house. I don't trust Pumpkin alone. I can trust Boo by herself, because she's a good little kitty.

Anyway, I crossed a rock, and Pumpkin almost got ran over. 

Silly Pumpkin.


	110. Wednesday, Nov. 16, 2011

Wednesday, Nov. 16, 2011  
**Mood:** Peaceful

Pumpkin and I visited my mother's grave today. Nobody else was at the cemetery, so I guess that was good. I didn't want people staring at Pumpkin and me. 

I sat by her grave and started talking to her. Pumpkin got in my lap and talked to her, too, but I don't think she could understand Pumpkin.

Pumpkin and I are lying in bed now. I'm trying not to cry. Pumpkin's face is on my chest, and they're making really cute noises.


	111. Thursday, Nov. 17, 2011

Thursday, Nov. 17, 2011  
**Mood:** Delighted

Pumpkin, Boo, and I went to the park today. I made Boo and Pumpkin all wear little collars and leashes, and they looked so cute! I wanted to take pictures of them, but I don't have a camera, and I fear that if I were to take pictures of them, I'll end up getting at least a part of me in every picture, and I'm not really that good-looking. 

Oh, and I met Brendon at the park. He wanted to hang out with me, but first, he stared at Pumpkin, and they sorta glared at each other, and I didn't know why. So, I tied Pumpkin up to a tree and went off with Brendon.

We rolled around in the grass, and he told me about how he was a lot happier with Ryan gone in his life. I didn't question him about that, but now that I think about it, I think I should have. They were a cute couple.

After that, he looked over at Pumpkin, and then stared at me. He asked me if I was happier, and I told him I was. 

We stayed on the ground until it turned to night. He held me, and I held him back.

We remained together even when Pumpkin and Boo started whining by the tree.


	112. Friday, Nov. 18, 2011

Friday, Nov. 18, 2011  
**Mood:** Uneasy

When I brought Pumpkin and Boo back inside after seeing Brendon, Pumpkin got mad at me and jumped away from me whenever I tried to touch them. Pumpkin growled and hissed at me and scratched at my arms and legs. I tried to hold onto Pumpkin, but I couldn't. 

Pumpkin ran off, and now I can't find them! Boo tried to help me, but she just decided to lay on the couch and be lazy.

I'm hoping Pumpkin'll show up later.


	113. Saturday, Nov. 19, 2011

Saturday, Nov. 19, 2011  
**Mood:** Compassionate

I decided to look for Pumpkin again, considering last night's situation.

So, I went down to the lobby of the apartment building and walked into the bathrooms, and who do I find sitting in a sink?

Pumpkin.

Pumpkin was wet, and I tried to wipe off the water, but Pumpkin kept moving away from me. 

After a few moments, Pumpkin scooted back, and I managed to rub away the water. 

Pumpkin nudged my hand, and my skin became damp. 

I picked up Pumpkin and held on tight as we walked up the stairs back to my apartment.


	114. Sunday, Nov. 20, 2011

Sunday, Nov. 20, 2011  
**Mood:** Desperate

Pumpkin's become reserved. I don't know why. 

I try to touch Pumpkin, but the response isn't pretty, and it hurts me. I don't want Pumpkin mad at me. I don't want to get hissed at, or scratched at, or even bit at whenever I want a hug. 

What am I gonna do?


	115. Monday, Nov. 21, 2011

Monday, Nov. 21, 2011  
**Mood:** Rejected  
**Listening to:** Boo purring  
**Watching:** Pumpkin being stubborn  
**Eating:** Puppy chow

Bath time!

Yeah, I actually got outta the bathtub a few minutes ago. My legs are burning, because I tried to get Pumpkin and Boo to take a bath with me, but Pumpkin kept jumping out, and now I have scratches all over my thighs and arms. 

_Baby, come back_.  
_You can blame it all on mee_.

I'm going to make some more puppy chow, and then sit on the couch and watch Lifetime movies, because I'm fat and alone. 

Now, Boo's lying on my lap. Stop it. Aw, she's so fluffy and smells like coconuts. 

So, does Pumpkin, but they're on the other side of the room, ignoring me. 

_Pumpkin_.  
_Come back_.


	116. Tuesday, Nov. 22, 2011

Tuesday, Nov. 22, 2011  
**Mood:** Distressed

I don't quite understand Pumpkin's motives, because when Brendon came over to hang out with me, they started hissing at him and even started to claw at him. 

I told Brendon I was sorry, and then I went on to try and control Pumpkin, but it was hopeless. Pumpkin wouldn't even look at me. They went on and started to eat from the bowl of puppy chow I left out for Brendon and me.

I guess I'm going to have a talk with Pumpkin.


	117. Wednesday, Nov. 23, 2011

Wednesday, Nov. 23, 2011  
**Mood:** Blissful

Pumpkin's been ignoring me… again.

I don't know why.

 _They_ were the one to make Brendon feel extremely uncomfortable while he was a guest at my house… apartment… thing.

I don't know what's wrong with Pumpkin!

I'll just… I don't know… curl up on the couch and watch movies that made me smile when everything was perfect.

First one: _Let the Right One In_.

Aw, Pumpkin's going to watch it with me.


	118. Thursday, Nov. 24, 2011

Thursday, Nov. 24, 2011  
**Mood:** Content

I hate weekdays, because I have work, and I don't particularly enjoy work that much.

I wanted to stay in bed all day, but Pumpkin wouldn't let me. They had lain on my face and rolled around on the covers, pushing me out of bed.

So, after several minutes of being pushed around my house by Pumpkin, with Boo helping them, I'm at work, sitting behind the counter. Nobody ever comes in on Thursday.

I'll draw for a comic or something. 

I should've brought Pumpkin to work. Maybe even Boo.

Well… I was wrong. People do come in on Thursday.

People named _Brendon_!

We talked. He said he and Ryan are working things out, and they're on their way to getting back together!

I'm excited for them. They were so cute together, and Ryan stayed with him while he was getting help. 

Unlike a certain someone I know.


	119. Friday, Nov. 25, 2011

Friday, Nov. 25, 2011  
**Mood:** Unhappy  
**Listening to:** Pumpkin screeching in the closet

I tried to be nice and willing to let Boo and Pumpkin see more people, so I invited Ryan and Brendon home after I got off work. As they stepped through the door, I thought everything was going to be fine, but then I saw Pumpkin's face.

Let's just say I had to lock them in the room for the remainder of their visit.

Boo didn't seem that happy, though, because she kept pawing at my bedroom door, and Pumpkin was doing it right back, but at a much higher volume.

I had to excuse myself before I marched into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I scolded Pumpkin, saying that I thought they knew better, and I was very disappointed with their behavior. Pumpkin only retorted back with a few hisses and gnashes of their teeth. They even smacked me!

But when I finally calmed Pumpkin down by locking them in the closet, I headed back to the living room, and Ryan and Brendon were gone!

Why doesn't anything work out for me?

Why does Pumpkin ruin everything?


	120. Saturday, Nov. 26, 2011

Saturday, Nov. 26, 2011  
**Mood:** Guilty

I didn't let Pumpkin out until a few minutes ago, because I kinda forgot. I don't know how it could've slipped my mind, because they kept clawing at the door whenever they heard movement outside. 

When I let them out, they were really pale, and they were weak, like, they could almost barely walk or crawl around. 

I had to help them onto my bed, and I fixed them a big bowl of soup and gave them some Kool-Aid, because I remembered it always cheered me up whenever I was down. 

I'm petting Pumpkin's head now, scratching behind their ears. I hope they forgive me. 

I mean, they must've realized they did something wrong. Why else would I lock them up in a closet?


	121. Sunday, Nov. 27, 2011

Sunday, Nov. 27, 2011  
**Mood:** Caring  
**Watching:** Pumpkin being weird

Woo! _Harry Potter_ weekend!

Pumpkin, Boo, and I are watching it in the living room. Pumpkin's in my lap, while Boo's lying by my feet. I hope neither of them are mad at me. They don't seem to be angry, but what do I know?

I'm holding Pumpkin really close, and I'm surprised they're not growling nor doing anything horrible to me. I guess they did forgive me, and I'm really happy about that. I love Pumpkin with all my heart, and I know they love me back. I _know_ they do. 

Anyway, I don't understand why ABC Family insists on playing every _Harry Potter_ movie almost every weekend. Everybody's seen them.

But I won't complain… much. 

After the movie ended, Pumpkin started scratching at my neck and thighs. I didn't know what was wrong with them, so I carried them to the bedroom and lay them down on my bed. They seemed to calm down a little bit, but I'm not really sure. They're a bit odd.


	122. Monday, Nov. 28, 2011

Monday, Nov. 28, 2011  
**Mood:** Sweet

I'm at work, and I brought Pumpkin along, but I kinda lost them.

I got scared, but then I saw Pumpkin trotting back into the store.

They were carrying a bag, and it was dangling from their mouth. They looked at me with wide, puppy-dog eyes, and then slowly blinked. I took the bag and the leash that was lying on the ground. 

I opened the bag and found two salty pretzels.

So, now, Pumpkin and I are eating them.


	123. Tuesday, Nov. 29, 2011

Tuesday, Nov. 29, 2011  
**Mood:** Content  
**Listening to:** Pumpkin snoring  
**Watching:** Boo drinking water

Pumpkin and Boo are sleeping at the moment. I decided to quietly get out my sketchbook to try and draw them.

Pumpkin's on their back, and Boo is lying on her side, her head on Pumpkin's arm. It's really precious. 

But, when I was halfway done with the drawing, Pumpkin woke up and moved around, and this caused Boo to meow and jump from the bed and get a drink of water. 

So, now I have to finish this drawing from memory. Fuck.

And now, Pumpkin's curled up to my side.

Stop it, Mr. Kitty.


	124. Wednesday, Nov. 30, 2011

Wednesday, Nov. 30, 2011  
**Mood:** Defeated

Boo's been rowdy. She keeps trying to trip me whenever I walk past her, but I tell her no, and that she's a bad kitty. She needs to be a good kitty for Mr. Kitty. 

I'm going to call her Mrs. Kitty now, because her and Pumpkin are married. I can tell both of them don't like it, though, because they keep trying to trip me whenever I head to the bedroom or the kitchen. It's like they're trying to tell me to call them by their names, but I still insist on calling them Mr. and Mrs. Kitty. 

They're so cute together!

Pumpkin's on the couch, and Boo is lying on their back, and her tail is swishing around and catching Pumpkin around the ears, and Pumpkin's nose keeps twitching! It's really adorable.

I'm going to make more puppy chow. That's all I ever fix now. I'm so unhealthy. I'm going to die alone and fat. 


	125. Thursday, Dec. 1, 2011

Thursday, Dec. 1, 2011  
**Mood:** Alienated  
**Watching:** _Beavis and Butt-head_

I'm being lazy and chilling on the couch with a big blanket over me. I'm watching _Beavis and Butt-head_. Mr. and Mrs. Kitty are nowhere to be found. Well, not really. I know they're in my room. I just… I dunno.

I'm starting to feel a bit of an… emptiness in my life. I don't know. I thought… I thought Pumpkin might've helped with the pain a bit, but I guess not. They've been ignoring me. I don't like being ignored. It makes… a nervous twitch appear. It sends me an urge to… take something, but I can't. I can't. I don't want to be sent back there. I'll be all alone. 

If Brendon is fixed, why aren't I?


	126. Friday, Dec. 2, 2011

Friday, Dec. 2, 2011  
**Mood:** Excited

Pumpkin and I are going to see _Breaking Dawn_ later.

I'm not sure if Pumpkin even wants to go, but I don't care. They're coming with me. 

It'll be like a little date. We can eat popcorn and drink Coke, and they can sit on my lap, and I'll hold onto them and hug them and kiss them and pet their ears.

Yeah, we're gonna have a fun time.


	127. Saturday, Dec. 3, 2011

Saturday, Dec. 3, 2011  
**Mood:** Hopeless

I can't believe what Pumpkin just done!

Okay, well, I decided to do some art, and I got out all my art supplies and set them around and never bothered to clean it up.

It turns out one of the things I left out was a paint bottle, which isn't exactly unexpected, but that's not what I'm trying to say. 

So, anyway, I was drawing in my sketchbook. I think it was a bird. I can't tell now, because Pumpkin came over, their limbs covered in red paint, and they walked all over my sketchbook.

I got so angry! I mean, I guess I can make the bird die, and the red was its blood, but you can't even tell it's a bird now. There's a big puddle of icky, red paint.

What am I gonna do with you, Pumpkin?


	128. Sunday, Dec. 4, 2011

Sunday, Dec. 4, 2011  
**Mood:** Panic

Pumpkin was getting on my nerves earlier today, and I don't know what happened. 

I mean, I locked them up in the closet and… I don't know. I guess they hit their head on the door frame or the wall or something, but now they won't wake up. 

I tried to shake them and pour water on them, but they won't wake up, and I'm starting to worry. 

They kept making noises, and they even knew I was going to lock them in the closet if they didn't shut the fuck up, but, but… I don't know what happened. I don't… I don't want to be sent back to the institution for killing. 

I'll hold onto them until they come around.

Yeah. That's what I'll do.


	129. Monday, Dec. 5, 2011

Monday, Dec. 5, 2011  
**Mood:** Scared

 _Hush_ , _little baby_ , _don't say a word_. _Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird_. _  
And if that mockingbird don't sing_ , _Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring_. _  
And if that diamond ring turns brass_ , _Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass_. _  
And if that looking glass gets broke_ , _Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat_. _  
And if that billy goat don't pull_ , _Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull_. _  
And if that cart and bull turn over_ , _Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover_. _  
And if that dog named Rover won't bark_ , _Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart_. _  
And if that horse and cart fall down_ , _well_ , _you'll still be the sweetest little baby in town_.


	130. Tuesday, Dec. 6, 2011

Tuesday, Dec. 6, 2011  
**Mood:** Nervous

Tell me where the hospital is.


	131. Wednesday, Dec. 7, 2011

Wednesday, Dec. 7, 2011  
**Mood:** Hopeful

I guess everything's all right.

Pumpkin seems better. They're awake, eyes wide and looking around. It makes me feel guilty, because I know I shouldn't have done any of that to them in the first place, but, but Pumpkin shouldn't have angered me. They know I have a bad temper.

Oh, well, as long as they're awake, I'm happy. I hope they're happy, too. _Insert smiley face here_.


	132. Thursday, Dec. 8, 2011

Thursday, Dec. 8, 2011  
**Mood:** Adoration  
**Watching:** Pumpkin walking around

Pumpkin came home today. It's so sweet. I had to hold them, because I was terrified of letting them walk around, but when I stepped into the house, I put them on their feet.

They started to wobble a bit, but then they slowly began to walk, like a newborn kitten.

It was adorable. I never knew something could be so heartwarming.


	133. Friday, Dec. 9, 2011

Friday, Dec. 9, 2011  
**Mood:** Distressed

Ever since Pumpkin came home, they've become more reserved, even more so than usual. I'm staring to think what I did before really set something off. I don't want little Pumpkin mad at me. 

I don't know what I'd do if they somehow left me… I'll… I'll… 

No. No, I shouldn't even be thinking about that. It's not right. They won't leave me. That's not possible.


	134. Saturday, Dec. 10, 2011

Saturday, Dec. 10, 2011  
**Mood:** Tearful

I love the holidays. Mostly because of the decorating.

I don't know why. I guess I liked watching everybody in the institution hang up the mistletoe and garland and wreaths and bells. It sorta calmed me, and I don't really know why. I mean, I don't have fond memories of Christmas when I was younger, because my mother and father used to get in fights over the littlest things, and that would cause Mikey and me to go down in my room and hide under my bed while holding onto the little dolls our mother would've made us.

Shit. Now, I've made myself cry again. Boo's noticed, and Pumpkin has, too. As comfort, Boo curls up next to my feet and starts to purr. Pumpkin decides to rest against my chest and lick my nose, my cheek. I can hear them purr, too.

I softly pat them.

"Everything's going to be okay, Mr. and Mrs. Kitty."


	135. Sunday, Dec. 11, 2011

Sunday, Dec. 11, 2011  
**Mood:** Uneasy

When I was moping around earlier today, something happened. 

Classical music started to play from somewhere in the house. I think it came from my bedroom, but I wasn't exactly sure, and I didn't have time to check it out, because Pumpkin showed up and started twirling around me, wrapping their legs around mine. I didn't know what to do, so I just held onto them and pulled them in close, and… We sorta started to dance along to the classical music I was hearing.

And now, I'm still crying and feeling depressed, but at least I feel a bit better. Pumpkin's sitting by me, their head hidden in my lap, purring—trying to fall asleep, no doubt. I poke at their back, but they don't do anything.

"I love you, Pumpkin roll," I murmur, as I scratch behind their ears.


	136. Monday, Dec. 12, 2011

Monday, Dec. 12, 2011  
**Mood:** Depressed

Pumpkin knows I don't particularly like Mondays, so they must understand why I blew up like I did today.

They shouldn't even have shown up at my work. I mean, despite my love for them and all and how they're now… well… _y'know_ , I don't want people to mistake them for… a victim of my past.

Anyway, they showed up at my work, sat on the counter, and then proceeded to meow in my face. 

So, naturally, I blew up. 

And now, they're avoiding me, much to my easy ability to become upset over the littlest things. They wouldn't even talk to me when I came home and asked what they would have liked for dinner. 

As a result, I'm planning to lie in bed all day. I don't care if they're hungry and want some Goddamn food. They shouldn't have ignored me to begin with.

Meow.

No, I'm not mad at you, Boo.

Meow.


	137. Tuesday, Dec. 13, 2011

Tuesday, Dec. 13, 2011  
**Mood:** Mortified

Days like this are when I miss being in high school. 

I was used to waking up and following a certain routine and never being bored, always having something to do, but now, since I'm outta school, all I do is go to work and come home and sit around. I guess that's a routine or something, but I'm always so Goddamn bored, and I never used to be. 

It fucking sucks.

I come home every day and see the faces of Boo and Pumpkin lying on my couch, staring at me with wide eyes. It's creepy, but I manage to ignore it. It's difficult, though. It is.

Pumpkin's continuing to ignore me. I can't believe they're still pissed about what happened yesterday. Fuck them. I don't care about them anymore. They could just _die_ , and I wouldn't care. Seriously.

I take that back. I care. I'm a baby, and I care about Pumpkin and Boo. I don't want anything to happen to them.


	138. Wednesday, Dec. 14, 2011

Wednesday, Dec. 14, 2011  
**Mood:** Speechless

Pumpkin's been leaving during the day, and I don't know where they're going all the time. It scares me a bit.

I wanted to know, so I followed them today, and I realized they were heading to Hobby Lobby. 

I didn't want to believe it at first, but then I grew to accept it. I won't say anything to Mr. Kitty. I'll pretend I don't know.

Ho-hum.


	139. Thursday, Dec. 15, 2011

Thursday, Dec. 15, 2011  
**Mood:** Blissful  
**Listening to:** Pumpkin munching  
**Watching:** Boo sleeping  
**Eating:** Puppy chow

I actually didn't really notice Pumpkin was missing until I stepped outside for a smoke and found them sitting on the front porch, looking ahead, head tilted, like they were annoyed about something.

I sat beside them and tried to get them to talk to me again, but they wouldn't. They ignored me and continued to keep their head straight, not paying attention to anything around them.

I started to pat their back and rub their sides when I heard them start to whine softly in their throat. 

Then, when the whimpering noises continued to happen, I hugged them and wouldn't let go until they acknowledged my presence. 

It took them a while until they gave in. 

Now, we're sitting on the couch, eating puppy chow. Boo's lying by my feet, not feeling well enough to jump onto the couch with us. I think she's getting fat.


	140. Friday, Dec. 16, 2011

Friday, Dec. 16, 2011  
**Mood:** Delighted  
**Watching:** Snow flurries

Boo's a big ol' fatty. I tried to pick her up a few hours ago, and I couldn't, because her weight was crushing my arms. 

Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but she is fat. I'm gonna have to put her on a little kitty diet.

Anyway, Pumpkin and I are going out tonight. We're going to get all bundled up, and then we're going to see the Christmas lights at the park. It's wonderful there. I remember my parents taking Mikey and me there when we were younger.

Now, I'm going to share that experience with Pumpkin. 

I was going to take Boo, but she's so fat now that I can't even motivate her to walk around and do anything. 

Oh, well, she's missing out.


	141. Saturday, Dec. 17, 2011

Saturday, Dec. 17, 2011  
**Mood:** Euphoric

I like how they play Christmas movies on ABC Family, but they don't play the good ones. Y'know what I mean?

I wanna see, like, _Rudolph_. I loved that little motherfucker when I was a kid, so I'm greatly disappointed whenever it's not playing. 

Oh, and Pumpkin just jumped out of the shower. I didn't even know they were in there… I didn't know what to do, so I sorta grabbed them and carried them to the bedroom, and we cuddled all through the night.

_Yeah._


	142. Sunday, Dec. 18, 2011

Sunday, Dec. 18, 2011  
**Mood:** Excited  
**Eating:** Cookie  
**Drinking:** Milk

I really love Christmas. I like making all kinds of desserts, and then eating them all.

Today, I'm baking some cookies in the shapes of reindeer, snowmen, and Christmas trees. I tried to make them into fat little chubby Santas, but it only reminded me of how fat I'm becoming, so I mashed them all together and baked a big cookie outta it.

Oh, and Pumpkin keeps getting in the way. Whenever I go to one side to grab the cookie dough, I almost trip. When I go get icing, they're sitting on top of the tube. And then, when I thought they stopped, I turn around and fell and made everything I had in my arms drop, which was, like, milk and cups of icing. 

Pumpkin stood by me. I knew they were laughing at me, so I grabbed them by the neck and stuck their nose in the mess they made. 

They didn't like it that well. 

We ended up getting into a food fight, which is a bit odd in my opinion.

But now, I'm satisfied. I'm munching on a slightly burnt cookie, and Pumpkin is sitting beside me, all fluffy from the bath I made us both take. 

I can't wait 'til Christmas.


	143. Monday, Dec. 19, 2011

Monday, Dec. 19, 2011  
**Mood:** Talkative

I decided to follow Pumpkin today. 

They walked into Hobby Lobby. I hid behind an aisle full of scented pine cones. 

The smell was getting to me. It made my head hurt, but I had to stay and watch Pumpkin, see what they were up to. 

They weren't really doing anything, though, just standing there, doing nothing. I didn't quite get what they were doing, so I tried to edge closer to get a better look, but my hip ended up getting caught on the shelf, and a whole section of the Goddamn scented pine cones came crashing down. And, of course, everyone ran to check what had made the loud crash.

One of them was Pumpkin, and they looked so fucking pissed. They stomped over to me and started swatting me, and they started to yowl really, really loud, and they wouldn't even stop. They didn't even seem to care that I was starting to tear up. They didn't even care that I fell down to the ground and started picking everything up. They didn't even care that I ran home with tears running down my cheeks, like a fucking waterfall.

They didn't care, and it hurts me. 

Why don't they care? I did everything for them! I gave them food! I gave them love! I gave them a place to call home! And this is how they repay me? By making me cry and fucking embarrass myself in front of a whole crowd of bystanding customers? 

Well, I'm getting tired of it! All I do is give, give, give, and I get nothing in return! 

I'm tired of it. I really am.


	144. Tuesday, Dec. 20, 2011

Tuesday, Dec. 20, 2011  
**Mood:** Tearful  
**Watching:** _Tosh.0_

I was having a perfectly good time watching _Tosh.0_ with Pumpkin and Boo until suddenly, and I don't even know how this happened, Pumpkin and I got into another argument, and they left my house! They just walked right out! And they even took Boo with them! 

They're trying to deprive me of everything that makes me happy in my life. I know they are! 

They want to see me depressed. Well, that's just fucking fine! Because I am depressed! I haven't felt this way before in my life, and I don't know what to do! I need Pumpkin. I need Boo. But no, they both just walked outta my life! 

I'm getting desperate. 

Why does Pumpkin hate me so much?

I thought they loved me. I love them. 

Come back to me, Pumpkin.

Oh, and bring Boo back, too. I know she's fat, and it could be a difficult job, but I really want my baby cat back.


	145. Wednesday, Dec. 21, 2011

Wednesday, Dec. 21, 2011  
**Mood:** Hurt

After I took a much-needed shower and curled up on the couch to spend another night alone, guess who comes right through the door!

Yep. That's right. 

Pumpkin and Boo.

They were in great shape, much to my relief, but when I got a closer look at Boo, I noticed that something was off about her.

And that something was her tail. 

It was all scratched up, and its gray fur was shredded off at different areas. It made me sick to look at, so I grabbed some gauze from the bathroom and wrapped it up nicely without her complaining. 

Once she got settled in, she lay down on my bed, under the covers, and fell right asleep.

And then, I turned to Pumpkin.

I don't think I've ever yelled that hard in my life. My lungs and throat still hurt. 

I called Pumpkin heartless and immature to let something like this happen to Boo. It looked like her tail got caught in a blender when it was on full power, but did Pumpkin seem to care? No. They went right on and gave me a look that said, "Well, at least she's not dead."

I don't know what I'd do if she did die. Boo means everything to me, and if Pumpkin fails to see that, well, I don't know. That's not the Pumpkin I used to know.


	146. Thursday, Dec. 22, 2011

Thursday, Dec. 22, 2011  
**Mood:** Tired  
**Listening to:** Pumpkin snoring

Today, I fabricated a plan. I'm going to make Pumpkin forgive me. It's so genius nothing could get in the way to make it fail.

But, just my luck, something happened. 

Okay, well, my plan was to watch _Let the Right One In_ with Pumpkin, but when I popped in the movie and told them to come here, they shook their head, but, eventually, they gave in and decided to watch it with me. 

After the movie, I turned to Pumpkin and tried to hug them and kiss their face, but they slipped away and walked to the bedroom.

So, like always, I guess I overreacted, because next second, I was following them into the bedroom and yelling at them. I hardly remember what I even said, but all I know is that my throat hurts and various other body parts do, as well.


	147. Friday, Dec. 23, 2011

Friday, Dec. 23, 2011  
**Mood:** Hopeful

I noticed Pumpkin was limping this morning. And with every other step they took, they would whimper. 

I went over to them when they had lain down on my bed and hugged them, my arms wrapped around their small body, kissing their face.

I remember Pumpkin was also wailing last night, like they were in pain.

I feel horrible.

I hope everything will be okay tomorrow, on Christmas Eve.


	148. Saturday, Dec. 24, 2011

Saturday, Dec. 24, 2011  
**Mood:** Frustrated  
**Watching:** _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

Pumpkin was a total ass. I thought it would have been a good idea, since it's our first place together, to throw a Christmas party with a few of our close friends. 

Well, it wasn't. 

Pumpkin drank a lot, much to my disappointment. They didn't even seem to care people were talking about them while they thundered around without a care in the world. It ticked me off. How could Pumpkin act like that?

I don't know what I'm gonna do with them! I'll have to punish them tonight. 

They were acting like a whore earlier. Well, if they like acting like a whore, then I'll punish them like one.


	149. Sunday, Dec. 25, 2011

Sunday, Dec. 25, 2011  
**Mood:** Agony

Merry Christmas! I love you two!

That's what I said to Boo and Pumpkin when I woke up today.

And I got the same reaction outta both of them: a grunt and a roll over, their backs facing me.

So, I got up and sat in the living room, deciding to wait on them to wake up. I was excited to give them their presents.

They woke up around nine, and Boo jumped right up to sit beside me on the couch, and Pumpkin plopped down on the floor by the small Christmas tree I had put up a few days ago.

I gave Boo her present—a pretty collar with a bell and a ball filled with catnip. She took it to the corner of the room and started playing with it. I watched her for a few moments before turning my attention to Pumpkin, who had started to fall asleep again. 

I thrust their present in their chest and waited for a reaction. I wanted them to be happy about it, because I did spend quite a bit money on it, and it made me think of them.

It was a guitar—a nice, sleek white one. 

Pumpkin stared at it for a few moments. I couldn't really be sure if they were happy about it or not, so I lightly poked them in the shoulder and asked them if they liked it.

They only responded with a small nod.

I bit my lip and asked if they got me anything, and I gave them a big smile, but something happened, and it all descended downward from there.

Pumpkin started yelling, and they smacked me around a bit. They told me all I did was treat them like shit and not appreciate anything in my life that they gave to me, which was totally wrong, because I was the one who put the extra mile in everything I do to make them happy, and I told them that, but they were set on what they had said, and what I tried to say was the exact opposite, and I was lying.

So, of course, at the mention of me lying when I knew I wasn't, I started yelling at them back, and I even hit them a few times, which was returned by Pumpkin in a more violent way than I have ever seen before.

It wasn't just hits. There were kicks, bites, scrapes, scratches, bruises. 

Basically, if Boo was human and was able to give a damn about my health, she would have had every right to report this as domestic abuse. 

But she's not human, and she continued playing with her little ball, rubbing her face into it as her little bell chimed with every jump she planned, every step she took, every swipe at the ball she timed correctly.

And I continued being beat. 

It didn't stop, and when I tried to fight back, they had grabbed at my wrists and shoved me aside, got on my lap, and started fucking up my face with their hands, their nails digging into my cheekbones and making long pink scratches that were sure to bleed for several hours. 

I pushed them away, but their nails were dug in deep, and they stayed hooked on even when I pushed and pushed and pushed them off with all the force I could muster.

But eventually, I became weak, and Pumpkin took this to their advantage and started to bite some more—mostly on my neck, on my throat. And these bites weren't the types that make your eyes roll in the back of your head and moan and fucking orgasm, no, they were the type animals produce out of an unrequited hatred toward their owner that had cared for them for a very long time.

Pumpkin had became weak after doing the painful bites, and they jumped off me and decided to do the worst possible thing they could do at that moment: break the guitar I had given them.

They smashed it against the walls, the floor, sending shards of everything off the wall, piercing me in the arms and stomach. Some had even hit Boo, but it was only in a small region, like her already battered tail.

After the chaos had stopped, Pumpkin turned to me, heavily breathing. 

They looked at me with narrowed eyes that read _I don't give a fuck about you anymore_ before running off to the bedroom.

And I stayed there, hearing Boo return back to her toy, the little bell on her collar ringing—the only happiness striking this day for me.

This may have been the worst Christmas ever.


	150. A Letter

_It took me a while to think up of how to write this, because… well, the words wouldn't come to me as easily as they used to, but I guess that's my fault. I, I… Never mind._

_I, no. I wanted to say these past three years were the worst ones of my entire life, and I don't say that often. I used to think my childhood was hard, because of my parents divorcing, and my brother and I getting into situations brothers shouldn't be under my bed, but, but… I can honestly say those times were pleasant compared to what I've experienced recently._

_I know I probably sound like a baby and a wimp and all this stuff, but, but I just_ can't _do it anymore, and I blame him._

_He knows what's wrong with me, and he doesn't care. He carried on like he usually did when he was younger. He, he, he should have known that by agreeing to move in with me, he would have to grow up a little to be able to deal with me. Being locked up in my room didn't show him the real me—that was only a small glimpse of something much more terrifying he would have to see later on when we moved in together._

_I, I… He knows I'm not right in the head, and I, I take medication for it. Well, not really, because it only helps with the depression that's a side effect of what I really have, but the problem is I don't know what's the main cause of my problems. The therapists never told me. They prescribed me pills and told me my problem was I was depressed over the sudden disappearance of the only person who talked to me, but, but it wasn't a disappearance. I took them, and I was depressed over the constant paranoia that someone would find him, that, that, that someone would take him away from me, when it took me so fucking long to get him right where I needed him. It took forever to get my hands on those pills so I could knock him out, and, and, and then all that was wasted all because he ventured out of my room, and Mama saw him._

_And, and, and, Mama, I'm really sorry about all this. I know I was your little boy, even if I was the oldest. I, I know you had high hopes for me. You said it yourself—I was going to make a mark in this world with my art, but, but the only closest thing I could do that meant "make a mark" was the mental and emotional scars I left on him after I kidnapped and kept him._

_Maybe that's what I have. Maybe my heart's broken, and it's affecting my brain, or I have a mental disorder, like the therapist thought I had all along. Maybe I am schizophrenic, like Brendon's mother thought her son had, but I know I'm not._

_People see him, and, with Brendon, I can see Ryan, and other people can, too, so that crosses out that possibility, but… I'm not entirely sure._

_Maybe all of this is made up. Maybe all of this is some world I created in my head, and I'm actually in a coma that was induced by a failed suicide attempt. But, but it's not made up. It's not! And I know that's hard to believe, because I'm so fucked up and not normal that all of this may sound stupid and crazy and odd, but it's real. It is._

_Some people's lives seem almost too mad to be real, but you shouldn't assume such ignorant things until you met the person, face-to-face, and actually talked to them, like they were an actual person, not like your_ patient _or some burden that you want to go_ die. _That's not right. It's not._

 _So, um, I'm ranting and carrying on when I really should just be focusing, but, but it's hard, because my mind's fuzzy, and my head hurts, and there are tears everywhere—on my hands, my face, my chest, even my Goddamn hair. I, I'm just really sorry that I can't do this anymore. I've tried to go on and on and on, but I just can't. It's hard, and when you have no one there to stand by you to help you through everything, to tell you_ "everything's going to be okay, just keep your head up high and smile that beautiful smile", _it's just hard to keep going. I thought I was strong, because I lasted this long, but I've discovered that I'm not strong at all. I'm a fucking wimp, because I need the support of others to help me through everything. I mean, I know you're supposed to have family and friends supporting you, but, but… I don't… and I want them, but I can't, because Mikey's off somewhere, and I haven't talked to him in God-knows-how-long, and, and I just can't do this anymore!_

 _He, he, he lives with me, and he just constantly makes my life a living, breathing hell, and he doesn't understand how it makes me feel whenever I look at him and suddenly start_ crying, _because he's on the other side of the room, staring at me with narrowed eyes that read_ what the fuck is wrong with you? _It makes me feel hurt that he doesn't even care to ask, doesn't even care to sit down with me and hold me and cry with me. He just stares and walks right past, because he doesn't care. I know he doesn't. All he's with me for is just the sex, and he probably doesn't even love me anymore, and I love him with all my broken heart can muster._

_I'm literally shaking, because my sobs have taken control over me so badly, or that could be my medication kicking in, because I'm starting to feel light-headed, and it hurts a bit to breathe, but, but I have to finish this. I have to, because, if I don't, no one will know the real reason why I went to bed one morning and never woke up. They have to know._

_But, but I don't have the energy to tell. I don't… Maybe I'll explain everything when I wake up… but… I won't wake up…_

_I, I, I, I was depressed, because of an unknown disorder, problem, whatever in my head, and no one helped me with it—just brushed it aside and stamped "depression" on it, but, but depression is the side effect, and, and no one helped me through it, not even him, when I thought that he would help me the most, because he's been with me, he knows how I function and all that. He's like the instruction booklet to the out-of-order machine that's me._

_But the booklet is missing papers, and the machine keeps spiraling downward into a hole that it can't get out of, and it turns into a puddle of oil and blood and other parts, and the booklet just lies in it, because it can't do anything else, because it depends on the machine for everything, because without nothing to fix, it just lies there with nothing to do, and eventually, the pages will become torn and frayed, and it'll slowly die as it waits for the machine to start up again, but it doesn't, and the booklet will just lie there, because it slowly started to crash and die when the machine failed and turned to mush._

_I'm fucking awesome at analogies, even when I can't see the paper nor the pen I'm writing this note with._

_I, I, I better lie down. I'm getting dizzy, and I fell out of my chair, like, two times already._

_I, I feel terrible, but I blame it on the side effect of what I have wrong with my brain—depression._

_And I blame depression with what I had just done and hope to not fail—suicide._

_So, I shall lie in bed and hope I won't wake up. I know I won't, because he wouldn't care. He would just think I went to bed, holding my journal, because I'm crazy and find solace in this journal other than in a person._

_I'm not even making sense anymore. I, I, I. I don't know._

_I… I need my bed. Where's Boo? I'll, I'll use her as my pillow. Maybe she'll provide an easy way into the next life or wherever I'm going._

_Boo? I, I need her. Where is she?_

_Where is the other one? Where's he at?_

_He, he, he doesn't care. He never did. I, I. I'm tired._

_It's bedtime now._

_Goodnight._


	151. Frank

I always thought you hated this thing—the journal, I mean. You always had a look of disgust or loathing whenever you dragged out this thing. Well, you did that when I was locked in your room, when, um, the dragon (was that what you called Dr. Miller?) first give you it. I didn't really know how difficult it was for you to express your feelings then, but I began to realize when you yelled at me, when I told you it was going to be okay.

Ah, yes, good times.

You're probably wondering—well, if you _can_ wonder, I'm not sure—how I exactly knew you called Miller the dragon. I walked into the bedroom after our little dispute we had Christmas day—I'm sorry about that by the way—and I saw you sleeping with Boo by your head. And in your arms was this journal. I didn't even know you still wrote in this. I always thought you locked me out of the bedroom for several minutes a night just to be an asshole, but I guess you were writing in this.

Your handwriting is really messy, too. I can still make out a few things, though. But I guess that adds a personal touch to it, eh?

I carefully slipped the journal from your arms—you felt so warm—and walked over to the chair you had next to the desk. I sat there and started reading. I was sorta lost, because it didn't have any previous journal entries that you had written, like the ones you wrote when I was living at your house. Oh, look at me, saying I lived there. In a way I did, I suppose.

Before I read any more out of that journal, I searched for the previous ones. I found them in a box in the closet. They weren't in good condition, but as I read, I found out why. You had several emotional breakdowns and probably took it out on the poor journal. 

The ones that affected me the most were the ones when you were sent to that institution. I didn't realize how much of an asshole I was back then. 

Eventually, I got to the journal that you were holding in your arms. It tore me apart how you wrote how, basically, everything was perfect in the beginning. Our life was going smoothly, and we were enjoying ourselves. I didn't quite understand why you referred to me as Pumpkin, but I didn't really mind. 

I hardly recognized the fact you were slowly deteriorating, breaking down from the inside out, if I can put it like that. I thought everything was going fine—we had the occasional argument and fight now and then, but I didn't notice how it affected you that much.

The last few entries made me tear up a bit. You made it seem like I was a heartless bastard, but you forgot to mention I wasn't the only one throwing hits—you were, too. I have the bruises and a black eye to prove it. Not to mention I have internal scarring from where you "punished me like the whore I was". Hm. I didn't know that getting the chance to talk to everybody at the party and not focusing all my attention on you qualified me to be a whore. Yes, I admit I drank a tad, but I was certainly not acting like a _whore_.

I shouldn't be getting mad at you over all this. I know you weren't all right in the head. But I still stuck with you, didn't I?

I found myself crying whenever I got to the last entry—your suicide note. I thought it was all a joke, because as I reached over and touched your neck, you were still warm. Very warm. You breathed and swallowed occasionally. You even started to grind your teeth. 

But I was more wary, then.

I crawled into bed and curled up close to you—Boo was now by your feet—and held you and the journal close.

I thought you would wake up the next morning.

You didn't.

Your lips were blue, as well as your skin. Your fingers were wrapped around my wrist, and I figured you did that in your sleep—subconsciously, of course. You didn't want to lose me when you did eventually… go.

I sat up in bed and looked at you in horror. I tried to pry your fingers off my wrist, but it was hard. Eventually I did, and I jumped off the bed, falling onto the ground. I didn't know if I should have called an ambulance then, so I didn't. Maybe you didn't really pass. Maybe you were sleeping soundly, like what had happened to me a few weeks prior. Oh, dear, I really hoped and prayed that you would be okay.

But by the third day, I called an ambulance, because you still didn't wake up. Boo even noticed. It was heartbreaking to see her paw at your face, wanting you to wake up and embrace her. I kinda wanted you to do the same to me.

A few days later, after you were removed and shipped off, I had sat at the apartment by myself for New Years Eve. I drank—don't worry. I wouldn't want to pass up that little tradition. Boo sat beside me, and it seemed as if she were mourning, too.

We both were, and my heart only broke more with each drink I took, because it brought back memories of you. 

Eventually, I walked into the bedroom and grabbed _Let the Right One In_. I played it in the living room and laughed and giggled and cried at all the right parts, as if you weren't really gone. I could almost feel you sitting beside me, a secure hand on my waist, but I knew it was probably the alcohol I had been consuming.

Mikey, Brendon, and Ryan stopped by the place and gave me their condolences. I accepted nonetheless. It seemed like they felt they needed to see me—just to see if I were still alive.

I guess they figured I would follow you, but I would never do that.

I'm sorry if this upsets you, wherever you are (come to think of it, I don't even know why I'm writing in this—it feels like such an invasion of privacy), but I want you to know that, _yes_ , I will continue living my life, even though you aren't here. I know this may offend you, again, wherever you are, but I feel as if I need to.

Someone needs to take care of the apartment and feed and tend to Boo. She can be quite bothersome if you don't pay attention to her when she bats at your leg.

Maybe I'll even start working at the record store where you worked. Hobby Lobby is starting to get boring anyway.

But don't worry—I won't drug some attractive-looking guy if I see one. That was your thing—never mine. 

I wouldn't want to make another guy have emotional problems, like I had developed. I wouldn't want him to become bipolar and slightly depressive and afraid of moving on.

I'm so scared. Nobody deserves to live in this state of fear.

But I'll be okay.

Because you'll be watching over me.

Right?

Shit, something touched my neck. Haha, I'm so funny… Nothing was there.

I love you, Gerard. Even though I didn't show it at times.

You were the best thing that has happened to me, and I'm not saying that out of the Stockholm syndrome I probably have.

These past few months were the best.

I wish I could live through them again and fix all the fuck ups I did—that we did.

But I can't. 

And I'm sorry.

Your captive, forever and always,  
Frank.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Are You Proud?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/541864) by [Nagem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagem/pseuds/Nagem)




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